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— 
AN 


HISTORICAL AND GEOGRAPHICAL. 


MEMOIR 


OF THE 


"" NORTH-AMERICAN 
_. CONTINENT ; 


NATIONS AND TRIBES: 


BY THE REV. JAMES BENTLEY GORDON. 


IL aay oy 








WITH A 


Summary Account 


= OF 


HIS LIFE, ' 
WRITINGS, AND OPINIONS. 








Mri try ¢ 
PRINTED BY JOHN JONES, 40, SOUTH GREAT GEORGE’S.STREET. 


1820. 








WB 


TO THE KING. 


STR, 


IT is surely an auspicious circumstance, 
not only for the orphan daughters of the Author, 
for whose benefit this Publication és ; but for man- 
kind, that the greatest Sovereign of the world, is 
the most sensible to a call of humanity and letters; 
It would ill become me to presume further, than to 

- gubscribe myself, with the deepest gratitude, your 
Majesty's most faithful, most obedient, and most 


humble subject and servant, 


THOMAS JONES, 


Representative of the late James Benriey Gorpon, 


Nutgrove School, Rathfarnham, 
20th May, 1820, 








en ieciais 
—==— = a 


& SUMMARY ACCOUNT 


LIFE, WRITINGS, AND OPINIONS, 





OF THE LATE 


REV. JAMES BENTLEY GORDON, 
Rector of Killegny, in the Diocese of Ferns ; and of Canawoay, in that of Cork ; 
Author of “'Terraquea ; or, Memoirs Geographical and Historical ;’— 


of the “ History of the Rebellion of 1798 ;”—* of Ireland’ 
and “ of the British Islands.” 





a 
ee ee 
ae : ee eee 
: . 
\ 





aero aay 
aa 





A SUMMARY ACCOUNT, &c. 








« WE have but collected this Volume, and done an office to the 
dead, to procure his orphans, guardians, without ambition, either of 
self-profit, or fame, only to keep the memory of so worthy a friend 
and fellow, alive. 7 

“ HEMINGE ann CONDELL.” 








DocTor JOHNSON complains, that even Goldsmith's 
life of Parnel, is dull and unentertaining, as the wri- 
‘ter had no proper knowledge (‘ had not eaten and 
drunk with him”) of his subject. He knew the man, 
whose character he described, by report only. He 
was not acquainted with the exact features of his 
mind, the peculiarities of his manners, their shape 
and colour. The remark is acute and just: but not’ 
sufficiently extended—noi variety of incident, no dra- 
‘matic cast of character can be thrown into the biogra- 
phy of a secluded and sedentary scholar, which aie, 
render the narrative. lively and entertaining. 

b 


x | A SUMMARY 


The truth and reality of the likeness should be 
preserved, and they admit not of such extraneous or- 
naments. Happy it is for the narrator, that he can 
thus throw a veil over. his own deficiencies, by im- 
puting them to the deficiency of the subject—that he 
can conceal his dulness by attributing it to the same- 
ness which necessarily attaches to the quiet, unvaried 
life of a secluded scholar, who never mingled with 
the great and learned, except in scenes of rural tran- 
quillity—who led a species of still life, which, how- 
soever abundant in happiness, affords little matter 
for narration. Yet, although this narrative is dull, 
it is consolatory to the writer. Itis a medicine to 
his sorrow, and a gratification to his pride; for a 
man may be proud to have enjoyed the friendship of 
Mr. Gordon, from,boyhood upwards, for thirty-four 
years, without the interruption of an hour. Medicinal 
for the mind, while.thus employed, seems, to hold 
converse. with, 


«The guide, philosopher and friend,” 


who gilded all the joys of past life, and softened all 
its sorrows. 


JAMES BENTLEY GORDON was the son of the Rev. 
James Gordon, of Neeve-hall, county Londonderry, 
in. the north of Ireland, a younger branch of the 
Ducal family of Gordon, by the then Earls of Hunt- 


Jey, who having adhered to the race of the Stuarts, 
shared in their misfortunes; and the residue are now 
mostly scattered through Scotland and Jamaica. 


‘His mother was daughter of Thomas Neeve; cele- 
brated in British biography, as a man of eminent 
science and literature ;:and was nephew to the great 
Bentley, whose fame so many of his descendents par- 
ticipate in, and are honoured by. This gentleman 
having been connected by marriage with the Mac- 
‘Cartney and Sidney families, illustrious names, left a 
large personal property to his grand-children. By 
the mismanagement of the trustee, it became of no 
value to them. The present Sir Thomas Neeve, of 
Essex, Baronet, is lineal descendant of the maternal 
branch of Mr. Gordon’s family—as was also the ce- 
lebrated Richard Cumberland, who till within a few 
months of his death maintained a correspondence 
with the subject of this narrative. 


Although Mr. Gordon was fully alive to the great 
value of family-respectability to society at large, and 
considered it as a great stimulus—an additional in- 
centive to honourable conduct in life, he notwith- 
standing never boasted of his. . “Que non fecimus 
ipsi, vix ea, nostra voco.”. But indeed no man, who 


has a roan toa "ite descent should undervalue it. 
. | OP Br er ‘ 


Xi A SUMMARY 


It is a badge of distinction, which makes all other 
honours sit with a better grace. Doubtlessly, as 
Horace says, and as many of even kings and nobles 
have said, since Horace’s time, true nobility resides 
in the mind, and is not to be measured by splendid 
‘titles and ancestral dignity. It cannot with unerring 
certainty, be transmitted from father to son. It may 
however be admitted that hereditary rank and family 
honours continued from generation to generation, 
engender, spread and secure a distinctive highmind- 
edness of conduct, which renders the acquisitions of 
this generation the seeds and plants of the virtues and 
excellencies of those which are to follow. Men are 
thus most effectually formed into “ what nature and 
the gods designed them.” A stronger stimulus is 
thus given to man’s exertions than by any considera- 
tions merely personal and selfish. 


Having received the usual school-education, he en- 
tered Trinity College, Dublin; and originally pur- 
posed to read fora fellowship, but was prevented by a 
long illness, terminating in a weakness of sight, which 
for many years, deprived him of all power of read- 
ing: and although he subsequently acquired strength 
enough of vision to be able to read «a book placed 
close to the eye, he never acquired sufficient clearness: 
ef sight to enable him to read with ease and fluency. 
This defect threw an ungraceful, unrecommendatory 


ACCOUNT, &c. xiil 


awkwardness over his whole demeanour. . It affected 
and blunted the whole system of his tastes, by ex- 
cluding him, before he had sufficiently stored his 
mind with images, from an expansive or an exact 
view of nature. He never acquired a perception of 
the beauties of a landscape, or a flower; and the 
narrator remembers his being laughed at by a lady, 
to whom he once presented a flaring, full-blown 
- peony, as “a beautiful rose.” | 


During his continuance in college, he engaged the 
attachment and lasting friendship of several very — 
respectable men. On leaving it, about the year 1773, 
he entered into orders. Subsequently, in early life, 
about 1776, he became acquainted with the late Lord 
Courtown, (as private tutor to his sons) a man who, 
endowed with all the refinement and high polish 
which a court can bestow upon a noble nature, knew 
how to value, and had an innate regard for simplicity 
and integrity such as Mr. Gordon’s. In fact, his Lord- 
ship, who had the best possible opportunities of know- 
ing him intimately and well, as ‘he lived in his family, 
at Courtown, for some years, always, as is evident 
by his letters, regarded shim ‘not only with esteem, 
but cordiality. 


In or about the year 7 79, he married Miss Boo- 
ai daughter ef Richard ‘Bookey, Esq.; a family of 


omy. A SUMMARY 


high” respectability; in the counties of Wicklow and 
Kildare; a.son-of which, Thomas Bookey, Esq. (a ne- 
phew of Mrs.Gordon) of Mount Garnet, in the county 
Kilkenny,was lately, June 1819, married toa daugh- 
ter of the present Lord Bishop of Elphin* ;and Miss 
Bookey, Mrs. Gordon’s : niece,. heiress: of the main 
branch of her.family, is married to James Chritchley, 
Esq., repeatedly Sheriff of the counties. of Wicklow 
and Kildare; and who, although a man of .extensive 
possessions, is still better known for integrity, libera- 
lity, and. correctness, in. all the walks and commerce 
of life. ! i 
. Whatever other. advantages Mr. Gordon may have 
derived from his marriage, it is certain that the first, 
and best object of life was fully obtained by it.. The 
cheerfulness and kindness of his wife’s disposition, 
her blandness of manners and goodness of heart threw 
a family-paradise around him. If, fortunately, they 
had been reared in habits of judicious economy,. they 
would have found their income amply. sufficient for 
all the purposes of a respectable establishment, which 
indeed (though by. incurring debts) they always up- 
held; but, though neither of them was extravagant, 
they were improvident, and never sufficiently un- 
derstood, and attended to the conduct and distribution — 


* Since the foregoing was written (in J uly last) his Lordship has becb 
translated to the Archdiocese of Tuam. 


ACCOUNT, &c, Xv 


of their fortune. ‘Thus, therefore, with them the 
brightness of life was too often obscured by pecuniary 
difficulties and embarrassments. But the sweetness of 
her temper, and the philosophy of his, soon dissipated 
those clouds; and they cast only a slight and tran- 
sient gloom over minds engaged and engrossed by 
the netessary cares and attention to a numerous and 
growing oft pee | 


Shortly after his’ marriage Mr. Gordon Ottis 
the establishment of a boarding school, at Marlfield, 
between Gorey and Courtown, in the county Wex- 
ford; and for some years, he was entrusted with the 
educhtion of the sons of several most respectable men. 
But neither his health, nor his habits corresponded 
with. the severe and unremitting duty of a school- 
master. If he failed in that occupation, Milton and 
Johnson did so before him. 'That he was beloved by 
most of his pupils; and by some of them in no ordi- 
nary degree, the narrator well knows. Among 
others, the sons of the late Mr. Coleman, of Newtown, 
near Rathfarnham, with their father, (a. gentleman 
of the greatest worth and intelligence,) were attached 
to him, with respect and cordiality during their lives. 
All the survivors of this most amiable family, conti- 
nue their regards with undiminished sensibility, for 
his memory, towards the objects most dear to him. 


xvi A SUMMARY + 


. Many-a delightful scene of literary conversation, 
ef philosophical instruction, of parental solicitude, of 
Christian example, witnessed in. this. family, rushes 
‘on the-recollection of the narrator and presses. for ut- 
_ terance; but he must check. himself from the detail. 

Dull heads, or cold hearts may ridicule the living 
picture pourtrayed by Goldsmith, of domestic bliss. in 
the. Wakefield family, and turn from it, as an exagge- 
ration of the poet’s imagination, or a vulgar scene of 
low enjoyment; but indeed the poet's. pen adds no- 
thing tothe reality of Mr. Gordon’s family fire-side at 
‘Marlfield. He doubtlessly possessed the same unaf- 
fected simplicity and integrity of character, which 
Goldsmith gives his Vicar. He was actuated by the 
‘same benevolence of humanity and oblivion for its 
weakness, and. was never touched with hostility ex- 
eept against vice, intolerance, or aggression. 


© diros 9 paw avOpwmroici, TayTas yae De QiAcsoxev.”” 


« He was a friend to mankind, for he loved them all.” 


-'Bhe foHowing circumstance may sufficiently exem- 
plify his generous.and persevering ardour, in the pur- 
suit of literature, an ardeur, which obstacles. only 
strengthened to overcome, ‘ne cede malis, sed con- 
ira audentior ito.” Residing in the country, at~too 
great a distance from public libraries, he was. often 
stopped in his researches for want of books not to be 


ACCOUNT, &c. xVii 


found-in the: libraries in his neighbourhood, all of 
which were open to him, particularly that of his pa- 
tron and friend, the friend of every species of good- 
ness and liberality, the Earl of Courtown—of his 
brother, then Dean of Ferns, afterwards Bishop of 
Cork. Of Stephen Ram, Esq. of Ramsfort, who 
had a fine collection of select and valuable books. 
It however often happened, that books, which he 
wanted could not be found with any ef his friends. 
He, on such: occasions, either made an excursion 
to Dublin, to store his memory, and to make his 
notes, or like Doctor Primrose, though for a 
amore laudable purpose, the beast was sent to the 
fair, and the narrator has known him, to sell a 
horse for ten. guineas, which sum, he immediately 
sent to the late Mr. John Archer, then. residing 
at 80, Dame-street, Dublin, (a man, who was the 
first to introduce an extensive variety of books in 
all sciences, and languages among his countrymen ; 
and whose dealings were all marked by distinguished 
liberality) in payment for a copy of Gough’s edition of 
Camden’s Britania—Ha uno disce omnes. Let every 
young man of a liberal profession, thus cultivate let- 
ters, they will be an ornament, and a solace through 
life, and perhaps may also cause a man’s memory to 
be respected, by those whose respect is valuable. At 
C: | 


XVili A SUMMARY 


all events, a real ‘attachment to letters, lifts a man 
above the sordid views of life and all its meanness. It 
not only encreases the value of all other enjoyments, 
but it creates new enjoyments of its own. It 
makes a man agreeable to himself and enables him, 
to extend his agreeabilities beyond himself. It  sof- 
tens all the ills of life, and exalts all its blessings. It 
adorns the highest fortune, and, as will be seen in 
the case of Mr. Gordon, it enabled him, to recover the 
rank and consideration in life, which was lost, by the 
im providence of an ancestor, and notwithstanding a 
most injudicious management of an ample income, 
to leave, it is hoped a valuable inheritance in the fruits. 
of his memory, and the labours of his intellect, to his 
posterity. Neither religion, nor virtue, properly 
speaking, can exist among mankind without it. De- 
void of learning, religion degenerates into blind fana- 
ticism, or wild enthusiasm ; and without it, virtue’ % 

features are savage and wricouth. 


In this outline of Mr. Gordon’s family concerns, 
may we be allowed to offer a tribute, 1. yg yeas ser: Oxrovrur. 
to the memory of a brave and generous youth, his 
eldest son, James'George Gordon, who as Lieutenant 
an Lord Courtown’s corps of yeoman cayalry, dis- 
played so much courage and humanity in the rebel- 
lion of 1798, and so strongly attracted the attention 


ACCOUNT, Ke. xix 


and kindness of the late veteran General Skirret, who 
commanded. at that time in his neighbourhood, that 
he subsequently procured him a commission, and ac- 
companied it. witha letter (whichis now with other 
documents of the General’s in the narrator’s. posses- 
sion) of the most kind and cordial advice and direc- 
tion. Fortes creantur fortibus. This youth met 
his. death leading up his division, to the attack of 
Fort Sandusky in Upper Canada, as his friend, Gene- 
ral Skirret, junior, the son of: his patron, did, leading 
on the too daring assault of Bergen-op-Zoom. 


These and similar statements may appear puerile 
to some; but if they have a tendency, asthe narrator 
means they should, to inculcate principles in boys, such 
as fathers would wish them to possess, the objection 
will not be formidable. Neither the opportunities, 
nor the capability of the narrator enable him to put 
forward a finished composition. He has none of the 
art of authorship, its formality or its pomp—not 
that he despises these things, because he knows 
not how to reach them; but he has been too 
much engaged, since his own boyhood, in teaching 
boys, to be now enabled to teach men. Those who > 
want instruction least, will not be the first, he 
hopes, to complain of his deficiency. He does as well 
as he can, under the circumstances that impel him to 
the work. The generosity and candour, which he has 

c2 


xx A SUMMARY 


on. most occasions, experienced in life, he trusts, will 
not. be denied to him on this occasion, which «has 
awakened all his sensibilities, and recalled the whole 
train of his. own life, as well as:that of his. friends, 
in review. to his mind... 


alhero: isa sSiearnaka hes in: ihe life nf Mr. ovabeini 
barren as it was of. incidents, which «shews ina 
strong and pointed manner, how he was estimated 
bya great and independent mind. In 1807, when 
Mr. Fox. was in power, he wrote to Mr. Gordon, and 
sent him an introduction to his Grace the Duke of 
Bedford, then. Lord Lieutenant. Although this kind- 
ness was disappointed by the death of Mr. Fox, and 
the consequent shortness of his Grace’s lieutenancy, 
no language of the narrator can reach the nobleness 
and grandeur of Mr. Fox’s conduct on this occasion, 
as on most others. Hereditarily accustomed to the 
walks of greatness; yet unsophisticated by the in- 
trigues which the struggles for greatness are said to 
generate, he turns his attention with a magnanimous. 
simplicity, to an unambitious sholar in an obscure 
corner, whose only recommendation to him, was a 
kindred integrity in historic relation—a firmness in 
the cause of truth unjustly visited by neglect and ob- 
joquy. A noble example this; and the memory-of 
it is fresh 1 in the mind of his: Grace the Duke of Bed- 


ACCOUNT, &c. xxi 


ford ; and the snaps prince on earth has most © 
graciously si ana it.* 


The netijoe of this narrative touches on any failing, 
or defect of Mr. Gordon’s with filial reverence; but 
although he would shield the memory of his friend 
from any malignant criticism, the impartiality of his 
narrative demands that the whole truth should be 
told. ‘ The Gods give us some faults to shew that 
we are men.” An honest writer should however 
adopt the candour of the true critic; and although 
he may be forced by the current of his narration to 
confess some blemishes, “ Quas aut incuria fudit, 
aut humana parum cavit natura,’ he should de- 
pict them so, as not to obscure the general excellency 
of his subject. It is said in language more powerful 
than human language, that “ the spirit of a man sus- 
taineth his infirmity,’ and happy he, who like Mr. 
Gordon, is pressed only by suclx smal]! defects as are 
easily recovered from—who is stained by no flagrant 
immorality. of conduct—no treachery of friendship— 
no action of dishonour—no pollution of mind. All 
whose habitudes were those of virtue, bottomed on 
religion. Whose life, in all its great Peres; was 


* When the foregoing was written, (J aty. 1819,) his Pee ee Majesty, 
Geo. IV. was Prince Regent. : 


xxii A SUMMARY | 


not only unblemished, but of exemplary integrity 
and i innocency. What though we may acknowledge, 
nay must confess, that he was gifted with a very 
slight ‘degree, only, of worldly prudence; and that — 
many.of the difficulties and exasperations, which at- 
tended him through , life, and were even among the 
proximate causes of his death, might haye been. avoid. 
ed. by a proper attention, and wise management of 
his pecuniary affairs... What though he did not avail 
himself of the kindness and cordiality manifested 
for him, by several men of. the highest influence, in 
favour.of himself and family, with the address and 
cleverness which distinguish and improve the fortunes 
of other men, we should notwithstanding acknow- 
ledge that. such blemishes are most frequently found 
to adhere to the wisest and best men, who are for the 
most part lost to self, or absorbed as it were in in- 
tellectual pursuits, often overlook the objects nearest 
and dearest to them. Such was the complexion of 


_ Mr. Gordon—such his easy nature—such his implicit 


confidence in the goodness of Providence. 


Almost all his pleasures were intellectual. For 
him the stores of ages, and the treasures of all cli- 
mates, were spread out as a rich banquet. ‘His en- 
joyments, like Dryden’ s lovers, were not confined to 
time or space. He sought and found them in every 


age and in every country. He was “ the heir of cre- 
ation, and the world was his.” He was prone to no 
sensual indulgence. He was indeed not abstemious, 
but he was temperate. He was satisfied with the 
plainest viands, almost to indifference; except, that 
he was as fond of a hot cake, as king Alfred; and as 
negligent of it, in the preparation ; but when provi- 
ded, he spared it not. His mind, in its flight “ be- 
yond this visible diurnal sphere” occasionally, though 
rarely, became subject to some illusions, or optical de- 

ceptions, akin to those visions which the Scotch call 
second sight. A mental malady, arising from a too 
great abstraction, and want of intercourse with the 
world. During the most of his life he was placed at 
too great a distance from a living conversation with 
such other minds as he could properly attach himself 
to, perfectly associate with, and become refreshed and 
refined by a rapid interchange of ideas. In candour 
too, we must allow that he was not formed for a ge- 
neral acquaintance and promiscuous intercourse with 
mankind. He was too diffident, unostentatious and 
slow—too retiring and indolent to please, or be 
pleased much on a slight acquaintance. He was 
too keenly sensible of the affectation and parade which 
so much display themselves in the intercourse of 
mankind, not even excepting the scientific and the 
learned. He was himself of so plain, sincere and 


XXIV A SUMMARY . 


perfectly good. faith, im every conversation and. occa- 
sion of life, that he perhaps made too little allowance 
for even a ceremonial deficiency of it,in others. It is 
said that Scipio never spoke a lie even in jest, and the 
narrator firmly believes that Mr. Gordon never de- 
signed one In earnest. | : 


 Thereisa little incident of no importance, except as 
it may display the character of the man, in its native 
simplicity.. Riding home from the narrator’s house, 
(to which for the last twenty years, he generally paid 
a visit, or two, annually) many years since, (1807,) 
he was attacked on Tallaght-hill, by a body of foot- 
pads, and robbed of his money, his watch, and upper 
clothes. Having been dismissed without. bodily in- 
jury, and ridden on a little,, he suddenly recollected, 
that they had taken from him a favourite cane of little 
or no value to them. He turned back, shouted out, 
and requested they would restore his cane, which in- 
deed they did. He then proceeded on his journey, in 
awkward plight enough, equipped in a ragged coat 
and tattered hat, which the robbers gave him, to the 
house of his friend, James Chritchley, Esq. of Grange- 
beg, in the county Kildare. Here having been re- 
furnished, he proceeded next day, home to Kil- 
legny. 7 | 


~ 


ACCOUNT, Ke. X¥XV 


“That Mr. Gordon was far from cultivating the 
graces of life, as Lord Chesterfield so forcibly admo- 
nishes is perfectly true ; and that he had an habitual 
peculiarity and prima facie awkwardness of manner, 
is not denied. This, in a great degree was attributa- 
ble to his deficiency of sight. All men, however, catch 
somewhat of the tone, and manners of those, with 
whom they must most converse, and associate. The 
narrator often observed, that during the latter years 
of Mr. Gordon’s life, his conversation and tone be- 
came deteriorated. While he lived at Marlfield in 
the neighbourhood of Courtown and Gorey, he had 
much more of the tone and manner of literary con- 
versation and polite life, than subsequently. But no 
man ever possessed the fundamentals of true polite- 
ness more than he did. Always natural and unaffect- 
ed, he was easy without effort, plain without rude- 
ness, and peculiar without offence. He never im- 
posed restraint on himself, or others—As he never. 
meant to offend, he was not apt to suppose himself 
offended. He never attacked, or disobliged any man, 
who did not attack, or disoblige him—Then indeed 
he was perhaps somewhat too unmeasured in his re- 
sentment, and too lasting. We should, however, add, 
that he imagined the offence on the injury to be con- 
tinued and unexpiated, as no man, on an acknow- 

: 2 ae 


XXVi A SUMMARY > 


ledgement of an error, Was more readily and sin- 
cerely appeased. How unfathomable, says Rochefaul- 
cault, are the depths of self-love ?. How studiously do 
some men struggle to conceal low and unworthy mo- 
tives, and: tovassume some. justifiable pretext for the 
cold-blooded persecution of the memory of a man, 


whom having first provoked, they cannot even —— 
his ashes ? ci 


: Oho the year 13 96, the late Hon. and Right E Rev. 
Thomas Stopford, Lord Bishop of Cork, who inhe- 
rited a full share of the exalted and characteristic 
generosity of his noble family, presented Mr. Gordon 
to the living of Canaway, in the diocese of Cork. In 
1999, His Grace, the present Archbishop of Dublin, 
then Bishop of Ferns, having for several years before, 
been favourably impressed by Mr. Gordon’s exemp- 
lary life, learning and intellectual endowments, in 
the true spirit, and meaning of a Christian Bishop, 
“presented him to the living of Killegny, in the dio- 
cese of Ferns. His Grace’s letters evince how highly 
he esteemed Mr. Gordon, during an acquaintance of 
many years. Under present circumstances, it will 
be allowed without any suspicion of adulation to say, 
that his Grace appeared and acted in his episcopal 
function (a trust the mest important and sacred,) as 
one of those lights, which providence for a season, 


ACCOUNT, &e. XXVii 


exhibits as an exemplar to mankind—O si sic om- 
nes. They of his own order, it is hoped, will not™ 
be fonder to praise, than to imitate his truly pastoral 
attention to old and meritorious clergymen. Then 
the Church of the establishment will- co-incide with 
the design of its institution, and the spirit of its doc- 
trine; and be a real public: -eoneern ‘to advance the 
cause of Christian faith by the most pert motive 
of Christian maaan in its pee * | 
+ GS PE OF A . ' 3 

_ Fortunate is the dioseie of licighiin inva Fernst in 
its late, and its present bishop, administered, as it is 
by an enlightened discernment, and benevolent atten- 
tion, as will more fully appear in the sequel of this 
narrative. The amount of these preferments to Mr. 
Gordon may, communibus annis, have been six or 
seven hundred a year; but they came late in life ; and 
his habits although plain and inexpensive were im- 


* Since the'above was written (July 1819,) His Gftace, Doctor Euseley 
Cleaver, Archbishop of Dublin, has paid the great debt of nature ; atid 
now mingles with the spirits of the just made perfect, where human 
praise, or blame avails him not ; but, where the uprightness and integrity 
of his intentions, and the $lliadtrrous example of hi his life, will spea ak for 
him, as angels, ‘* trumpet topgued.” 


+ Since these sheets were sent to the press, the Right Hon. and Right 
Rev. Percy Jocelyn, D.'D. Bishop of ‘ee and ssahalans sai been 
Manslated to the diocese of pete: ¢ 8p 


XXViil A. SUMMARY 


provident and negligent, from want of knowledge im 
the daily transactions of life; and, he was not. ever 
able during the latter part of his life, to completely 
redeem the embarrassments, which he necessarily con- 
tracted in the former part. 


Having thus summarily drawn the outline of his 
fortune and his. manners, we are now to say a few 
-_ words of his modes and habits of study, and of his 
general opinions. His custom was to read his author 
leisurely and thoroughly: he then walked out, re- 
- yolved and digested the subject in his mind, and made 
himself master of it, in a connected, orderly manner. 
Thus adopting the fashion, which Swift attributes to 
Pope, 


“ Pope walks and courts the muse.” 


Like Henry in the composition of his History of 
England, he was thus enabled to complete his work, 
without the intervention of a second copy. Nothing 
can more clearly and satisfactorily manifest the full 
and perfect knowledge which he had of his subject, 
than that he composed so long a work from the ful- 
ness of his mind and the stores of his memory.— 
Scarcely a blot—few interlineations, additions, or al- 
terations are to be found in his manuscripts consisting 
of nearly three thousand very closely written pages. 


ACCOUNT, &c. Xxix 


‘Like the bee, he collected the materials from various 
quarters; and so mixed and new moulded them, that 
the composition, although it savours of the flowers 
whence collected, has, by the operation of his art and 


industry, acquired a new, a racy, and an embalming 
quality of its own. 


. Karly imbued by the Greek and Latin classics, he 
too much undervalued modern poets. Of all profane 
authors, he esteemed Homer most—Milton next— 
then Virgil and Horace. Shakspeare* he did not 


_. * Against Shakspeare it is objected by the greatest of all eritics (Doctor 
Johnson) that “he seems to write without any moral purpose.” The 
Doctor, indeed, whose mental acumen was only inferior to Shakspeare’s, 
urges this charge, as well he may, with a tender solicitude, and speedily 
too discharges it, by observing, that from his writings “a system of moral 
duty may be selected.” Shakspeare is then, therefore, as didactic as life 
requires, and in the manner, by which life may be most efficaciously edified 
- Although his flight be apparently vagrant, and his course disorderly, truth 
never forsakes his pinions, or ceases to direct his view. She presents 
herself to him, as it were sudésponte, as Venus to her son A®neas, and he 
‘becomes at once smitten and inspired with her charms. Smitten and 
inspired he certainly is, and he makes his inspiration to be felt: and 
inculcates a love for virtue and goodness of every species, more effectually, 
then the ablest Professors e cathedré, have ever done. Society is delighted, 
refined and improved by his writings, *‘ plenius et melius Chrysippo, aut 
Crantore.” May we not, therefore, candidly conclude, that he designed! 
imterweaves the apta, et idonea vite, with the web of his fable and the de- 
velopment of his characters, He knew that the moral medicines of man- 
kind often require to be gilded, that by preventing the patients nausea, 
they may produce the due effect intended by the prescription. Shakspeare 
is the writer of all others, who inculcates a truly impartial, universal 


xXxXX A SUMMARY 


properly appreciate in considering him second to any 
writer of any age, or country. Dryden, and: Pope, 
and Goldsmith; Gray, and Campbell; Rogers, and 
Burns, and Southey, were among his favourites. 
Virgil, and Horace, and Milton, he had by heart, and 
almost all the fine passages of the Lliad. This foun- 
dation he laid in youth, and he never much added to 
it afterwards. He used to insist too much that. mo- 
dern poets only dilate and weaken the strength and 
texture of poetic imagery; and that it was for the 
most part time lost, te give those hours to their 
works, which may be so much more delectably be- 
stowed on the great originals, whence all these pig- 


morality. Other writers, and the theatres of other nations, ancient and 
modern, address themselves, exclusively, or peculiarly to some distinct 
class, or order of mankind, with a view to flatter either the higher or lower 
classes and ranks of life ; and thus injure the best bonds of society, by false 
and treacherous pictures, by low covert insinuations and unsocial conclu- 
sions, that the miseries of mankind and the disorders of society, arise from 
the inequalities of human condition, more than from their own vicious pro- 
pensities. Thus the drama of other writers instead of inculcating a le- 
_ gitimate sense of moral duty and social order, engender envy on one side, 
and contempt on the other. Shakspeare alone, of true British breed, em- 
braces all ranks and degrees of men, without flattery and without preju- 
dice. In his magic mirror there is no distortion in little or in big. Every 
man from the king to the peasant, may see his duties depicted there, and 
the mutual dependence of all on all, with awholesome impartiality, and 
sil justice. In his mode. of inculcating morality, as in all his modes, 

e excels all other men, he coincides with nature in her spring. Buds 
and flowers “spread their beauty to the sun,” and imperceptibly form 
into fruits, delicious to the taste, and useful to the support of life. 


ACCOUNT, &c, : XXxi 


mies draw their little wealth. This, to be sure, is 
too much a wholesale undistinguishing criticism ; but 
the self-love of poetry mocks all criticism, and new 
eobwebs of the brain will be ever a weaving. 


In all his researches—in the whole system of his 
life, he was more studious to form clear ideas and 
just conclusions, than to make any pompous, senten- 
tious display of the steps that lead to them, Verum 
et decens, truth and propriety, were the great objects 
which he sought after and cultivated in life. The ~ 
eritic will not complain that Mr. Gordon’s stile does 
not make his subject sufficiently intelligible. He 
cannot, however, be so easily excused from the oppo- 
site charge of never leaving that which was clear to 
himself, obseure to his readers: and this is a fault, 
which most men are not too prone to pardon. Peo- 
ple love to find in a book something beyond the level 
of ordinary apprehension—something, which may 
cause a ripple on the smooth surface of the mind, 
and seem at least to apply a flattering stimulus to 
self-complacency; although it be not sufficient to 
awaken indolence to mental exercise, or dulness to 
the activity of thinking. Occasional difficulties, and 
some peculiarities in an author, serve like the swells 
and turns in a road to keep the attention more alive 


XXXxii _ A SUMMARY 


and observant of the beauties of the country, thana 
dead level, and a direction ever in a right line. 


Passing from the poets to the historians.—Thucy- 
dides was his favourite. Him he regarded as the 
father of authentic history, gueque ipse vidit, &c.— 
He esteemed him as the friend of rational liberty, 
and his book as a school for statesmen, in which they 
are taught by powerful example and clear inference, 
the danger of tyranny, as well as its cruelty: and 
that above all, the cowardly tyranny of demagogues, 
sharpened, as it always is, by their own insecure and 
precarious authority, is most to be dreaded—most to 
be avoided. On such occasions men may well indeed 
“fly from petty tyrants to the throne:” but wise 
men fly only to the throne of the laws. Mitford,* 


__* May we here presume to offer a slight criticism on a passage in Mr. 
Mitford’s history of Greece, chapter 18th, section 5th, he states, and refers 
to Thucydides, that the Lacedemonians sent Gylippus alone in aid of the 
Syracusans. Mr. M. is in this passage, evidently mistaking. _ It would 
‘appear, that he is misled by the drift of Alcibiades’s speech, who then in 
exile, roused the Spartan councils against his countrymen, the Athenians, 
and their allies. Thucydides does not warrant the position, that Gylippus 
was sent alone. See hucyd. lib. 6, chap. 93,—“ KGL TOWMCAUTINA, Kat ToS EY 


Linthie Temes Tive Tiy.werny, xas Tuysrmoy mporratarres wexovrc ros Sveeuorsoss exedevoy er’ EXEL, 
nav wv KopivOiwy Bovdsviopsvov gosesy oF EXTWY WAROVTUY LAAISTO Kae Ta iste Tis wPereia nker Tots &xti— 


ti : 

Again, lib. 6, chap. 103,—avros pay (Tvaswmos scélilet) xa: Tv9ny o KopiOios, vaver ovo wey 
Aanovinaw— And yet still . lib... T3 chap. ] sna o wey TuaArrros avadalay rey Te oDETepav vau™ 
Tur xo emCaray rors em uopeous erraxocius,” To the same purpose Diadorus Si- 
culus, lib. 13, and subsequent compilers, as Rollin, Sir Walter Raleigh, — 


- ACCOUNT, &c. Xxxili 


Ferguson, Littleton, Somerville, Henry, and: Coxe, 
he regarded as real historians, who, guided by the 
polar star of truth, conduct their readers with felici- 
tous skill and learned labour through the clouds of 
error and the dark gloom of faction, to a clear and 
comprehensive view of ns salifects: ey : 


The stile and manner of an historian, he deemed 
perhaps too much a secondary and subordinate con- 
sideration ; and therefore neither Livy nor Hume 
stood so high i in his estimation as they do in general 
opinion. To Gibbon’s research and luminous ar- 
rangement, he gave the highest praise, as well as to 
the general choice of his topics; but he despised his 
sententious affectation, the holiday-dress of his stile, 
the. gloss of which becomes soon faded by continual 
recurrence and daily use... He still more despised his 
cold, subtle, and studied infidelity. . He knew. not 
how an understanding elevated by learning and_ phi- 
losophy, as Mr. Gibbon’s certainly was, could really 
entertain such false and ‘uncomfortable notions; and 
he finally concluded that they were not really enter- 
tained, and that the profession of them was merely a 


-&e. with the exception of Justin, who writes—« idtlench git Gylippus 
solus,-in quo instarvomnium Lacedemoniotum erat.’ A fine turued seu- 
tence, but quite unfounded in fact.—[See Gylippus’s character in Plu- 
“tarch’s life of Nicias. ~~ 


é 


XXXiV - A SUMMARY. . 


display;of literary, vanity-—a lie in sentiment,.to ,at- 
tract. attention. and to make a name, .The common 
and beautiful order of nature and reason is., - forsaken 
for.a, inva fos men gape 1 in Ll surprlee at an 


Po APS 


splendours of J ohneya are ‘sometimes ‘oaye to 
stare at, a. wen, or , to ,be puzzled by a connundrum. 
The varied picture of the. finest landscape, or the end- 
less delight of perusing, Shakspeare,, is. occasionally 
forsaken. to admire, a. basaltic pillar, or to unrayvel.a 
charade... Such pleasure is of short duration—.. 


eet “tt steals but a ae from time. te 


Nature aad reason. godly resume a'thetr erapnie Biting 
back the mind ‘to’its‘ proper course, and restore  relj- 
gion to its proper severeignty.. Considering’ Robert- 
son at once as a writer and an sie ced ‘he esteemed 
hiv, as Pope does Dryden; 1S | 


a Whose oe majestic shireh and harmony divine,” fi 


are calculated to delight ands improve. all iene Of 
Steele, and Swift, and Addison he thought highly. The 
- Narrator sometimes presumed to maintain the superi- 

ority of the great Doctor J ohnson above them all; and 
to. consider him; as equal, if not superior to wn? mo- 


ACCOUNT, &c. i &XxXV 


countnmes ams “T6t?A” ease psy. 


: Vee | 
ee eer hates ‘ez, ey 


‘ral writers ‘ahd critics. of his own, or any other 


As to the great theological: writers, and divines, 
‘the reproach, which Thirlby made to his great rela- 
tive, Bentley, applies with equal force to him. ‘He 
‘appeared to avoid conversation on'the topic. He felt 
not sufficiently strong. » The narrator however is well 
‘assured, that he°was’not ‘so uninformed even’on this 
subject; as‘he appéared’ to be.’ That’ he was not better 
informed; is unquestionably a great deficiency, and 
a'just reproach. He however certainly had much of 
the substance of the volames: of the: great Doctors, 
Clarke, Tillotson, and Taylor, floating in his memory. 
In early life, ‘he adopted another ‘course’ of ‘reading — 
and study ;° and although, at’ one time (1798,) he 


fits *F bap: pees ras <j tile 


»..* To affect any eulogy,of Doctor Johnson would appear to an English- 
man, as.an_ encomium of Hercules would.to an ancient.Greek—presump- 
tuous and unnecessary—a pitiable and futile attempt “ to guard a title 
that was rich before.” Unhappily such is not the ease in Ireland.’ Many 
Irishmen, even, of »letters;treat the Doctor’s memory, with a boyish, idle, 
ill-informed, supercilious contempt—men, who indeed know his character 
“only from some half-told aneedotes of occasional irritation, sudden erup- 
tions of a too great and wounded sensibility; without the causes which 
produced. the explosion, or a knowledge of the circumstances by which it 
was accompanied, prestime,to condemn a man, who illustrates by a full 
and steady blaze of intellectual splendour, his country, his age, and human 
nature itself; and whose fame spreads: per or@ viriim with civilized. life 
and polished language, through all the nations of the world... 


XXXVi A SUMMARY a 


lost all his manuscripts, the accumulated labour of 
pmany years, he subsequently, after an interval of 
‘about eight years, and the coinpletion and publication 
of ‘other «works—* veteris servans vestigia flam- 
me,” returned con amore with renewed vigour of 
_mind, anda more ripened understanding to his origi-. 
nal and favourite pursuit of geographical history ; 
and he has left his work complete, as a bequest to his 
daughters. . Of this; work, as we mean to speak more. 
at large hereafter in the account of his manuscripts, : 
we shall now only say, that it is not written for any 
distinct profession of men solely, or appropriately. 
Its nature is general; and men of every profession 
may find delight, and improvement in its perusal. 
The philosopher, the man of business, the man of let- 
ters, the legislator, may any, and all of them, meet cu- 
rious and useful information spread through its pages, 
which they may not find in any other work of the same 
kind and extent. But an inhabitant of these islands, 
by being enabled, in a comparatively easy manner, to 
contrast his own condition with that of an inhabitant 
of any other country, will find most delight, and the 
greatest lessons of contentment, in its perusal. Such 
a study is calculated immediately and certainly to in- 
flame the amor patrie of Britons. If Britons take 
areview of mankind in the various nations and cli- 
mates of the world, they will have little to. envy. 


ACCOUNT, &c. XXXVil 


In most other nations, they will perceive the physical 
ills, to which climate exposes mankind, enhanced and 
exasperated in a manifold degree, by the much more _ 
oppressive inflictions of human institutions.. They 
will see poor human nature degraded and oppressed 
by the most. disgusting and cruel. superstitions. 
Throughout all. Asia and Africa, with the exception 
which Britain affords—throughout most of America, 
and much of Europe, they will find the great. majo- 
rity of mankind, living in a crouching and. precarious 
dependence. on the always capricious and often. san- 
guinary will of a few tyrants. Scarcely in any other 
region of the earth, but their own, will Britons find any 
guarantee, any law, that isan emanation of the public 
reason, sufficiently strong, uniform and certain, to 
protect the public rights against all aggression; and 
yet, possessing these qualities, of a spirit sufficiently 
mitigated and condescending to interpose its shield in 
favour of the weakest individual, and to cover him 
most. effectually from any self-willed, capricious. at- 
tack, of the mightiest man in the land. 


Although Mr. Gordon was a steady preacher of the 
word of his great Master, and that he composed seve- 
ral sermons clear, impressive, piquant and original, 
he never. perplexed himself or his hearers with the 
quarrelsome tortuosities of dogmas unintelligible, or 


xxii oA SUMMARY 


hard to be understood. ~ Yea, all of you be doers of the 
word, and love one another, was the béginning and 
the end, the alpha and omega of his preaching and 
his ‘practice. ‘Thus his religion ‘animating his prin- 
ciples, governing his’ practice‘and actuating ‘his con- 
duct, spread calmness: and ‘peace over: his conscience 
through life, and enabled him, *in’ full possession of 
his intellectual ‘faculties, to thé last: moment of his 
existence, to resign his being inthis world,» without 
a pang, ora disturbing sigh, in perfect charity with 
all mankind, on a Oth ape emt in aiguie seven- 
‘sititle rae a fobi6 


it now remains, that we give in the same rapid, 
but‘ faithful manner, an account of his’ publications 
‘and of the manuscripts*which he has Jeft: | The first 
‘of them is ‘his Terraquea, or memoirs geographical 
and historical: “Of this‘work he had in 1798, pub- 
dished four! volumes, whien, ‘at’ the suggestion of a 
-elerical friend, still alive, and by the advice and en- 
couragement of his printer, le too inconsiderately 
undertook to write a succinct account of that distress- 
ing period. Unfortunately (should we:say so?) for 
-his children, he performed his untertaking too much 
in consonance with the dignified independence of his 
Own mind, to give satisfaction to any party. “>He par- 
‘took not of the passions and*enthusiasm’ of the time; 


ACCOUNT, &c.. XXXxix 


and he wrote as a philosopher at: a season when he — 
might have ensured. his. promotion and made the 
fortune of his family by writing as a partizan. — His 
prejudices, as well as his reason and his sense of duty, 
gravitated. towards. the glorious fabric of the British: 
constitution. He saw that violated and defiled by 
all parties. . He consulted not his power, but the dis- 
position of his heart, in attempting to allay or soften 
the phrenzy of the times. mages motto. of his arvana 


“Truths would you teach atht save a sinking tea 
“ All fear, none aid you, and few understand, pn 


was aleve in. his memory, as ap apothegm of indtende 
tion for. others,. more than, for himself. Hume re- 
lates that Harrison, the author of. Oceana, had. too 
much confidence in human reason, and indeed so 
had Mr. Gordon, He. deemed. that as. it ought, it 
would. be, omnipotent, among,mankind.. . He found, 
and. his. posterity, may still find, that. it is in full 
force. only, among a few,; but ‘that, wees thick. clouds. of 
social and, conflicting, factions, hang. over ras a oe 
the minds, and distort, the. affections: of .the greater 
number}: and. that, the. writer . who. undertakes. to 
present the naked truth, with andour and. impar- 
tiality, to.a public so; constituted, imposes on himself 
a duty. of great difficulty)and hazard. ,| Neither party 


xl A SUMMARY ~ 


receives, or is amended by such unpalatable impar- 
tiality ; and he who offers it is condemned as a vie- 
tim by both, It is said that boys are not grateful to 
their instructors; but the observation is more gene- 
rally applicable to men. Boys soon outgrow their 
juvenile distastes, and for the most part become re- 
spectful and. fond of their masters: but men are 
actuated by a stubborn pride and inbred prejudice, 
which will not bear the probe of reproof, how just 
or useful soever, if the prescription be not accompa. 
nied by some severe stroke of adversity. In the 
storm of civil war, the predominating maxim is, 
that he who is not for me in every thing, is against 
me in all. The violation of every law, human and 
divine, is sanctioned by a boisterous zeal for a party. 
He who reprobates such conduct in his own party, or 
acknowledges any good property in the opponents, 
is set down as a hollow and false friend, governed by 
his fears; or some other equally unjust and unwor- 
thy motive is attributed to him. | Where is the man, 
who, like Mr. Gordon; would stand erect on such an 
occasion, and dare to do justice to all parties, with 
the calm impartiality of a true historian? At such 
a) season, other men ‘may have written with a like 
unbiassed mind; but the publication was delayed to 
after times.. We must allow’ that: Mr. Gordon did 
not sufficiently appreciate this posthumous courage. 


ACCOUNT, &c. xli 


This work however went through two large editions 
in England and in Ireland; and is not now to be 
found at the booksellers. Even at the time, it ex- 
torted from the superciliousness of those dark and 
dangerous (dark because anonymous—dangerous be- 
cause self-interested, purveyors to the public appetite 
for censure ; i ie 


Discit enim ‘citius, meminit que TiBeatiaas iilud, 
Quod a deridet, quam ym, probat & veneratur,) 


tribunals, the reviews, a praise for integrity, far above 
any praise possibly resulting from any effort of the 
intellect. As the effervescence of zeal evaporates, as 
.the voice of faction sinks into the calm of peace, its 
yalue becomes every day higher, in rational and im- 
partial estimation. ‘‘ Sons shall blush, whose fathers 
were its foes.’—-It. was the first and only work of a 
general nature, to lift its voice in truth and candour 
to expose and put to shame the abominations and 
enormities of the enrages of both sides, with more than 
a disinterested fidelity, and a fearless integrity, which 
should for ever endear the author’s memory to the 
wise and good. He presented, or he intended to pre- 
sent, topics of mutual forgiveness.to both parties, by 
shewing them, that each of them had fallen into in- 
temperate and cruel excesses of conduct. The aim— 


fi 


xii A SUMMARY | 


the object: of his book, ‘was evidently to allay and 're- 
concile the ‘angry passions of his countrymen, and 
to” unite, ‘in “one common: bond of” citizenship, the 
Whole family of’ the British” people. He indeed 
always ‘contended ‘in the’ true spirit of British i- 
berty, and Christian feeling, that even in their’ er- 
rors, his countrymen, as children of the’ state, are 
entitled to a paternal treatment and indulgence.— 
‘He associated: with them in much of the intercourse 
of life; and he knew by long and intimate experi- 
ence ‘the fidelity and generosity of their nature, and 
how susceptible they are of sudden impressions whe- 
ther of good or ill. - He lamented the long and egre- 
gious mistakes in’ the training and management of 
stich valuable elements. ‘He could not divest himself 
‘of the opinion, that they would be as good subjects of 
the law—as amenable, and as industrious, orderly 
‘and honest, as they undoubtedly are, as kind and 
sincere, as ‘their fellow-citizens of England, ‘had they 
been subjected to the same kind of government. But 
alas, this has not been the case: and we should not 
attribute 10 natural and irreclaimable disposition, 
those defects, imperfections and vices of character, 
which are equitably to be charged to the account of 
injudicious, and unsocial Jaws. On every oceasion of 
danger, or disagreement, the first question of an Eng- 
lishman is—Jack, how stands the law— is the law in 


ACCOUNT, &c. xii 


your favour ?—“ for we,do fear the law.” If so, all's 
well —But “an “arrogant piece of flesh lords. it 
over” poor Paddy ; ; and the first question of an Irish- 
man on such an occasion, is not how stands the law ? 
but how inclines. the , squire—how is his honour af- 
fected towards you? Is he your friend? If so, Pat, 
you are safe. Thank God, this state of things is on 
the wane and fading from society ; ; but there are ‘still 
too many and deep traces of it remaining, . The great 
landed proprietors of Ireland are, for the ‘most part, 
absentees—non-residents.. Their Irish affairs are con- 
ducted by agents having no proprietary, interest in the 
soil. Many of the gentry, who do reside, prefer their 
individual will, or some paltry, apprehended conve- 
nience, to the deep and permanent value of habitual 
submission to the law; and in their own practice too 
often set an example of the law’s infraction. Such 
as in the case of smuggling, illicit distillation, the 
eluding of payment, or throwing ali possible embar- 
‘rassments against the payment of tythes.. Endeavour- 
‘ing to shift the odium of rack-rents, the prima mali 
labes, from themselves, against the parson or the ex- 
-ciseman; and on the other hand complaining of the 
vices of the commonality, as the bars to all national 
improvement, as if the instruments of practical wis- 
dom, were the true, and only impediments to the adop- 


Sf 2 


xliv A SUMMARY — 


tion of good sense and right feeling. It i is thus, that 
some men travel in a circle, and make one part of their 
injustice, an excuse for the other. It is thus, too, 
that the beneficent wisdom of the law is too often not 
only thwarted, and rendered nugatory ; but made 
oppressive and vindictive—quid leges sine moribus 
vane profictunt. Whenever Ireland shall have 
enjoyed a resident gentry, equal and social laws, 
when all her magistrates shall have been appointed 
and recognised by law ; for, as Hooker says, “the voice 
‘of law, is the voice of God ;” her morals, her learning 
and manners will be found to correspond with the ge- 
‘nerous elements of her people. “ Read,” says a philo- 
sophical poet, “a nation’s history in its eyes.” Who, 
then, thathas known Ireland, and that has seen, or read 
of other countries, thirty years ago, and can see, or 
read now, but must acknowledge her improved con- 
dition out of all proportion with other countries ? 
The repeal and relaxation of so many of the anti- 
social, penal Jaws, re-awaked the stupified faculties 
of her people. ‘Those barriers to national happiness 
and improvement being removed, every social ad- 
vantage has flowed on the land in just proportion, 
“and will continue to flow, as the work proceeds. 
Proceed it will. Reason and utility ensure its pro- 
gress to full completion. Provident fathers, cordial 
neighbours, and good citizens, are its offspring—social 


ACCOUNT, &c. | xIv 


prosperity its effects—generous emulation, gentle- 
manly pride, kind domestic feelings, and natural 
strength, its consequences. It is easy, and to a weak 
head or a bad heart, it is alluring, to plant a man’s 
foot in a faction, and to regard a fellow-citizen as an 
enemy; but the true patriot and the true Christian 
prefers the interest of his country to that of any 
party, and though he will in turn be abused by all, 
like the immortal Grattan, his mind is bent only 
on peaceable and social adjustments. Let Greece, 
or America hold out to their gullible admirers, 
their banners of freedom, inscribed on one side, 
with the titles of religious liberty and_ civil equa- 
lity, and shew on the other a band ef miserable helots, - 
hunted like beasts for sport, or a no less miserable 
group of enchained slaves, staked as a wager at 
hazard, by a drunken American patriot. But let the 
sons of Britain—all the subjects of her wide empire, 
unfold the code of her laws, to animate, or to shame 
the nations—to extinguish all kinds, names, and de- 
grees of slavery, from the face of the earth; “ and 
gather in its shade the living world :’ for indeed not 
only man, but the very brute creation, have rights 
under and are protected by British law, which. con- 
tains the salient principle of excellence in all things, 
_and.a recuperative spirit, redeeming all past mistakes. 


Mr. Gordon’s.next, ark is a history of Ireland, in 
th volumes octayo. Of this work we may confi- 
dently. say, that. it is what it pretends to be; a clear 
and distinct, relation of .all the valuable and well 
authenticated facts of Irish history, in a just and. im- 
partial manner. ‘This work passed through two 
editions, and. is now rarely to be found, except. in 
private libraries. .His next and last published work 
isa history of the. British Islands, in four volumes 
octavo. ‘This work is excellently adapted to give a 
clear and correct view.of the general history of the 
British system of islands, from the earliest period to 


_our.own time, and would: be advantageous to the 
higher classes. of schools; as also to recal and refresh, 
in.a luminous, manner, the facts of British history 


fading on the memory of those who have studied it 
in more, detailed and extensive publications, 


: eee come now to speak of the Manuscripts which 
he has left. These, with the four volumes already 


)published,-complete the memoirs geographical and 
historical of the entire globe. He has also left an 
. historical memoir of the church of Ireland, not quite 
portaaad, | 


B 


The ie whieh he, pursued in_ the execution of 
his great work, is, in the first place, to describe all 


ACCOUNT, ke. x]vii 


the prominent features; and distinguishing charac- 
teristics of the earth; and its inhabitants. He then 
descends to the description of particular countries.— 
His researches appear accurate and extensive ; his plan 
satisfactory and full. The work has a cast of origi- 
nality running through it, that distinguishes it from 
any work of the kind hitherto o> yore and evinces 
and powerfully condita ‘Tad! well prepared dnd 
concocted its subject. ‘The work is therefore not got 
up in the spirit of a book-maker, ‘who stitches’ various 
shreds torn from the writings of: others; ‘and hangs 
them as it were, without comparing and weighing 
their coherence and value unconnectedly together, in 
form of a motley, heterogeneous tissue’ of tawdry 
Bc ae re He peowares to the sources and original 
| : s, weighs, and selects from 
them, all the ibe bin HALA AD features illusrative of his 
subject. Although the web be confessedly and neces- 
sarily of foreign materials, its texture isall his own— 
hoe stabat, hoc est imitandus. In this he deserves 
praise—in this he 3 is to be enna | é- 





The narrator has since the death of his friend (from 
April to July 1819,) devoted most of his hours of 
relaxation from the. duties of his profession, with all 
the calmmess, and impartiality, that his mind allows, 


xiviti A SUMMARY 


to the examination and comparison of these manu- 
seripts, with the treatises of Guthrie, of Payne, of Pink- 
-erton, and, of Playfair, (with whose work, he has 
_ had for many years, some acquaintance, ) and he has 
confident hope, that whenever the public shall have a 
_fair opportunity of deciding—they will: agree with 
- him, that his friend’s production, has advantages and 
excellencies not to, be found in them.» It-is not his 
purpose, nor is it the rightof a person circumstanced 
as he is, obscure and unknown, invidiously or detract- 
_dngly.,to,speak of these writers. They are valuable 
,and. eminent compilers, particularly Pinkerton and 
Playfair. . However, since they wrote, new informa- 
_tion-has been acquired... The old and the new. world 
have been more fully.explored—regions then entirely 
. unknown, or, imperfectly. known, have been since 
visited .by scientific and, literary men, with all appli- 
ances and means to. acquire and communicate intelli- 
.gent information... The world, if I may so express 
myself, has been extended by the the, enterprizing re- 
search of more modern, travellers.. New Strabos and 
new Pausaniases, endowed, with all the accessions, 
which time has added to science, since the days of these 
-ancients, haye thrown a clearer anda steadier light on 
_ geographical history. The illustrious Humboldt, and 
our still more illustrious countryman, Clarke, (more 
illustrious as displaying equal science and immeasura- 


ACCOUNT, &c. xlix 


bly more learning, en ground much more difficult, 
because much oftener trodden, where readers can- 
not be entertained by stupendous novelty, or dazzled 
by a display of easily observed, but attractive because 
‘strange phenomena,) with a host of other travellers of 
great, though inferior celebrity, have in our days, vi- 
sited the new and the old world. Of the wealth of 
all these writers Mr. Gordon has ably and fully avail- 
ed himself, as is evident by the references to their 
works in his M.SS. Independently too of this consi- 
deration, conclusive as it is, to authorize a publica- 
tion of them, it is and will always be of value to a 
reader to know how the same subject presents itself 
to; and may be handled by different minds. It will 
always afford delight and improvement to all readers 
of sound intellect and good taste, to survey the effects 
of new combinations, and various modifications, which 
the materials common to all may be made to assume, 
when arranged and displayed by a man, who, like 
our author, had, by reading, by study and reflection, 
fully enabled himself to treat it, in a masterly man- 
‘ner. This work enables us to compare the different 
modes of human life—to weigh different systems of 
opinion. It introduces'us to an acquaintance with 
our fellow-creatures, as they are variously modified 
-by climate, or human institutions—lIt exhibits a bold, 


1 A. SUMMARY — 


connected, and panoramic view of all the great fea- 
tures,. distinctions, curiosities and productions of the 
earth, with the epocs, and revolutionsof nations. We 
come now to speak of his manuscript memoir of the 
church of Ireland, which he has left unfinished... At- 
tached to the Establishment as:Mr. Gordon was by all 
the: motives of duty and interest, of reason and preju- 
dice, he nevertheless thought that it requires the un- 
ceasing vigilance of the supreme authority of the state 
to prevent, the inroads of abuse, to shape its. course, 
and to:moedel its conduct. agreeably to the changing 
tone.and progress of human reason, and the consequent 
wants of society. He thought, that some settled regu- 
- Jation should be adopted tosecure old, and respectable 
clergymen a’ preference at least to appointments in 
-the Church... .He agreed: that liberal birth, and edu- 
cation, and the spirit.of a gentleman are solid requi- 
sites in: the collective character of aclergyman ; but he 
did not agree, that. even these things should exclude 
the: reward of services, so that promotion in the church 
should be,,actually, and. in. practice, a private con- 
sideration, ‘to, be decided. per salium, without. any. 
reference, tothe merits.and service of the nominee. 
He, therefore thought that;a parliamentary. enquiry 
into the state of. the church, occasionally, would be — 
of great service to the cause of truth and public mo- 
rals. He deemed it a fortunate circumstance for this 


ACCOUNT, ‘&e. h 


empire, that the hierarchy is’ indissolubly bound up 
with the civil establishment, as he knew not by what 
other provision of human wisdom, the clashing of 
these authorities can be so effectually avoided.  Al- 
though he never fell into the silly sophism which 
confounds the establishment of religion with the soul 
and substance of religion itself, he was decidedly of 
opinion, that the legalized establishment of religion, 
and the incorporation of. ecclesiastical magistrates, 
with the other public authorities, mainly contribute 
to the maintenance and spread of liberally religious 
sentiments, and of a generous morality thoughout 
society. Maintaining, however, the balance of. his 
mind in just equipoise, he concluded that an esta- 
blishment designed and instituted for the advantage 
of society, partakes of the nature of society itself, and 
should not be considered as bound by an: irrevoca- 
ble law, excluding it from a fair participation in 
the growing improvements of society. As the im- 
provements of society are gradual and tentative— 
silently and insensibly revolutionary in their -na- . 
ture and. progress, he thought that all public 
establishments-should be so also; and that their 
being so -considered and. so conducted, precluded 
all apprehension of tumuituary and revolutionary 
violence... He was not ce to condemn. establish. 


hi A SUMMARY 


ments,.as things useless to the manhood of society, 
and which society having outgrown, no longer needs, 
and would even do well to reject and destroy them, 
as monastic, unsocial incumbrances. His philosophy 
taught him better; and he saw in the overthrow of 
establishments, only a voluntary, rash, and wicked 
anticipation of the decrepitude of age; or rather a 
presumptuous, insane return to the imbecility of 
childhood, the infancy of society. Wisdom, he well 
knew, has always two extremes to combat and bear 
up against: on the one hand, she must encounter the 
blind admirers of antiquity, “ annosa volumina va- 
tum,” and the friends of every abuse; and on the 
other she must maintain herself against the empirical 
dogmatism of petticoat philosophers, and self-plumed 
enthusiasts, who utterly abandon the realities of life, 
and would build the whole structure of society and 
government on the idle chimeras of inexperienced 
heads. The course between these two adverse follies 
is indeed parvo discrimine lethi: but wisdom must 
make good; her passage, and she can do so by firmly 
grasping the helm, and steadily holding on her 
course in the middle space. Establishments were in 
their origin, improvements on the ther state of so- 
ciety. Let the principle of improvement, which gave 
them birth, preside over their existence, and they 
will run on imperishably through ages, as banks of 


ACCOUNT, &é. hiii 


accumulation, from which posterity may draw the 
best principles of religion, science, and letters. He 
was deeply impressed with the conviction, that every 
sect of religionists having power so to do (not recog- 
nized and identified with the state,) would act as 
rivals to, or disturbers of, the state.. He too well 
knew how deep and how salutary religious. impres- 
sions are in the minds of mankind, to conclude 
that the ministers of a predominant religion 
should be left to float at large in society ; to main- 
tain’ their holds over the minds and consciences 
of its citizens, while those ministers theirselves 
have no legal appropriate share in the public esta- 
blishments of their country. He was too great a 
friend to toleration and peace, not to set the ministers 
of a predominant religion entirely at their ease in 
social connexion with the state. He knew that no 
such connexion exists in America; but he did not 
therefore deem her situation more happy, fortunate © 
or wise. He thought it belongs to this empire, to set 
the example, not only to America, but to all other 
countries, of internal and domestic legislation, and 
that only shallow politicians, men flushed with the 
self-importance and intoxication of sudden riches, 
or with the vanity of unfledged knowledge, would 
propose America, as a model. Britain, he would say, 
is surely right in interweaving her religion into the 


div A SUMMARY 


system of. her political constitution. ~ She is: thus 
enabled to tolerate all sects, and to maintain com- 
plete controul over the ‘ministers of her own reli- 
gion; and to obviate all the dangers arising from 
a divided authority. ‘The scheme of her govern- 
ment is thus adjusted in’ perfect conformity to the 
order of society itself, duly participating in all its 
natural elements. ‘The interests of all, are thus sub- 
stantially and firmly linked together, and blended in 
one harmonious compound. She has solved the prob- 
dem, which has so long, and will so much longer still, 
perplex and weaken other nations. “The harmo- 
nious moderation, (see Laing’s hist. Scot. vol. 3, page 
289,) which is observable in America from the shores 
of the Atlantic, to the banks of the Ohio,” may be as 
clearly observed and with much more impressive and 
edifying phenomena in Britain. It may moreover 
be observed, that British moderation ensures a greater 
portion of good public and private morals. -Is much 
more congenial to all rational propensities, and intel- 
Jectual advancement, and improvement of all descrip- 
tions than the random course at present pursued in 
America. The learned author (Mr. Laing) seems.on 
this occasion, to unaccountably forsake his great intel- 
Jectual acumen and expansive understanding. He 
states, that men may choose their religious instructors 
in America, as they do their medical or legal advisers. 


ACCOUNT, &ce. ly 


The right is not disputed in thisempire more than in 
America. The difference is, that with us, the religi- 
ous instructors of the establishment at least must be 
(and it is admitted to be a defect, that all are not) 
theirselves instructed, by a previous course of regu- 
lated study and discipline. Medical and legal doctors 
are, we presume, even in America, subjected to some 
previous course of study and probation, before they 
are allowed to launch into life, to tamper with the 
health and fortunes of their fellow-citizens. Ne sutor 
ultra crepidam, isan approved maxim of homely 
wisdom, ratified by all experience, although some- 
‘times even great and learned philosophers overlook its 
value. It argues a low, rustic, clownish, unimproved 
state of society, where quacks in any of the liberal pro- 
fessions, are prevalent.—But to establish quackery by 
law, or to leave the thing unprovided against by the 
laws, institutions and regulations of society, is not the 
part. of a wise legislation, which always (legibus 
emendat) looks forward to the improvement of the 
coming generations. The religious peace, which it 
is, as'\ it were triumphantly boasted, that America 
enjoys, is really not a lively, animating,’ emulative 
peace pregnant with the improvement. of society-; 
but a dall, incurious, unintellectual, Turkish sloth, 
stupidly content with mere animal gratification. The 
American clergy (should we ‘call. them such ?) con- 


Ivi A SUMMARY. 


sole their congregations less by their holiness, than 
by a mean, quiescent, « servile. submission to the ig- 
norant preconceptions, of their unconnected, un- 
church-like congregations; and in nothing elevate or 
adorn their country, or Ulustrate themselves by ge- 
nius, talents, or learning. ‘Their religious instructors 
are rather begging petitioners by licence, than doctors 
of the Church of Christ by legal authority. The 
-Americans’ horror of the priesthood has so begloomed 
their minds and overshadowed their understandings, 
that their laws and institutions leave their people se 
naked and exposed to the vile arts and seduction of 
ignorant cant, and cunning hypocrisy, that genius or 
wisdom, or learning can never take root among them. 
That America may hereafter emerge from this next 
to Cimmerian darkness, is not denied ; but she must 
change, or rather adopt a system, and pursue. the 
course, which has elevated other nations; and which 
now elevates Britons “beyond all Greek, beyond all 
‘Roman fame.” — 


Why should the political constitution of America 
be extolled in any respect, as a model of excellence ? 
In what does its merit consist ? What practical or 
theoretical superiority can it boast ?. In its leading 
features, it is British to be sure; but it is, British 
-sadly caricatured, mutilated, and distorted... The 


ACCOUNT, ‘Ke. lyii- 


state of the populatiou in America—its fewness, and 
thinness compared with the vast extent of its terri-: 
tory, render it easier to supply the mere animal: 
wants of a growing family there, than in most:parts | 
of Europe. The same attraction exists in many other 
countries. _ It is a blessing not attributable to the po- 
litical constitution, which is by no means calculated — 
to remove or soften the evils of poverty, and those’. 
ills, which in all countries, by the predispositions of 
Providence attend on the inequality of mankind. In 
no country in the world is the insolence of wealth 
harsher or more disgusting to an ingenuous mind, © 
than in America. There indeed ef genus & virtus,: 
nisi cumre vilior alga. There indeed “ laws grind. 
the poor, and rich men rule the law.” America has 
not sufficiently recovered from her anger, Just un- © 
doubtedly in: its causes, and nobly vindicated in the 
result. . So far the aspirations of every manly mind ~ 
will go with America. But surely the prolongation 
of anger is humiliating and derogatory to a state of 
acknowledged independence. Anger now looks like 
the puff -of self-importance at the acquirement of. 
something undeserved, unearned, and unhoped for. — 
It is an obstacle to the calm adjustment of her civil. 
and political system, conformably to the settled anal-. 
ogies and universal propensities of the human mind. — 


Wilt A SUMMARY 


The spirit and tone of her institutions, seem rather 
calenlated to continue and confirm, than to correct 
and improve, the vulgarity of her manners. When 
her knowledge shall have acquired the ripeness and 
circumspection of age, she may possibly discover, that 
hereditary honours are useful to secure, embody, 
transmit, and enhance the acquisitions of society. 
That the glory of her fathers can, in no other so ani- 
mating a form, descend to. her children, and spread 
an established and lasting dignity—an illuminating 
brightness, cheering and warm, over her land. That 
the morality of her citizens, her literary acquirements, 
and intellectual refinement, will be more certainly 
ensured, when her establishments shall have im- 
parted a public and legalized support to the ministers 
of religion; and through them, to religion itself; 
- without which all pretences to morality are false and 
hollow. America may, in some future time, disco- 
ver that an established church is an ordonnance of 
God—an institution by special revelation from heaven, 
‘not tobe left to the dark and capricious acceptance of 
individuals, and never to be neglected with impunity. 
‘That the bonds of her union must be drawn much 
closer, that the links of her own confederation must | 
be turned again on the anvil, and forged anew by 
abler legislators, than she can yet:boast of; and the 
power of her legislature much strengthened and sim- 


ACCOUNT, &e. lix 


plified by coverting the present quasi’ legantine cha- 
racter of her representatives into. full and perfect 
legislators, liberally confided in, and elected because 
they have a solid, rooted, and unshakeable ground of 
attachment to and stake in their country’s prosperity ; 
and for a span of time sufficient to give stability and 
consistence to their enactments. That her executive 
must be reformed from its feebleness, and placed be- 
yond all chance of corruption, or temptation by any 
foreign state; and rendered hereditary, in order for 
ever to preclude the enormous dangers of its becoming, 
in future times, an apple of discord for contending 
factions. That her judges must add the spirit of gen- 
tlemen to their knowledge of law; and her priests 
(sot disant) a knowledge of letters to their spirit of 
-godliness—That she must have formed, and intimately 
connected with the vital stamina of her constitution 
many assemblages of learned men—many academies, 
colleges, and universities.—That she must have wiped 
out the deep stain of domestic slavery, and trade in. 
human blood—That she must have liberalized her 
liberty, purified her morals, and established her cleri- 
cal order—if not by a system of doctrine, at least by 
a system of learning, connection, and discipline. That 
until she shall haye thus,changed her course, remo- 
-deled and improved her institutions, and begot.a more 
liberal, confiding and generous spirit inthe whole 
h 2 | 


Ix A SUMMARY ~ 


system of her domeesie polity; she can have no title to 
pe mentioned, as an instructress and exemplar to.other 
nations.- lidesd: she seems: in most of the great es- 
‘sentials of wise and enlarged legislation. to be but lit- 
‘tle, if at all, before the worst of the European go- 
-vernments, always excepting Turkey, which:although 
‘having dominion in Europe, is: Asiatie in principle. 
‘and ‘constitution; and Spain, which appears to be 
‘bowed down instupid submission to a benighted,. “uur. 
“mixed and: —. hierocracy.. , 


Mr. Gérddn deemed thie most enlarged compre-. 
‘hensiveness in the articles of the Church, consistent 
“with the essential: doctrines: of Christianity; to be the 
surest and most advantageous mode of’ producing the 
‘greatest unity and steadiness in essential and substan- 
‘tial religion, aud that all those Christians, whose ex- 
alted: piety and understanding give them the lead 
among mankind, now perfectly agree among them- 
‘selves in essential and substantial religion—that how 
‘far soever they may diverge: in- opinion, or. spread 
asunder in verbal definitions or polemic apprehensions. 
~on'secondary and subordinate topics, they will all be 
found, ever reunited in sentiment, respecting the fun- 
damental essetitials, and’ vital: substance of religion, 
and its everlasting: utility—not merely to man indi- 
vidually considered, but to the greatest.empire. Re- 


ACCOUNT, &é. Ixi 


igion is the fealty of the human’ mind; it is.a lively 
acknowledgement of gratitude and submission, as 
much due by the greatest empire, as by the humblest: 
individual. Before its tribunal, both are equally fee- 
‘ble. Tobe forgetful of it, in either, argues: a stolid: 
and pitiable ingratitude to the great Giver of all good ;. 
and draws its punishment along with it. The indivi- 
dual loses the best solace; and the most animating 
principle of his existence. The greatest empire thus: 
forgetful of its weakness, and absorbed in its: pride and 
_self-sufficieucy, enervates’ the strongest arm of its 
strength,and rashly renounces, or foregoes the influence, 
which it might otherwise possess over the minds. of its 
citizens. But the establishment of religion seems im-. 
perative on the greatest empire, as: much as an.habitual 
religious impression is valuable to an individual, or 
even more so. An‘ individual may forget, or forsake 
his duty for a season.. The first blow of misfortune 
awakens conscience, and forcibly recalls, a man to 
his: duty. Empires have no:such monitors. If their 
principles be erroneous, they continue to flounder on 
in. sickly and feeble existence—in. turbulence: and. 
faction; cradles-for all the: bad: passions which. afflict. 
human, nature. The empire which: embraces and 
adheres to right principles is never sickly—never 
feeble. It flourishes: green: in: age; equally as in: 
youth: branches may be pruned off, or decay—trun-- 
cus viret, semperque virebit.. 


Fa 


ixii A SUMMARY 


Time, which alters all things earthly, may have ren- 
dered a change necessary, not in the spirit and sub- 
stance of Christianity, but in the mode of its adapta- 
tion to the wants of man in an altered state of society. 
It would therefore perhaps be found, on a revision of 
the thirty-nine articles, by the proper authority, in our 
time, now that enquiry and discussion have begot a bet- 
ter temperament, and spread a brighter, a steadier, and 
a holier light, over the Christian world, that they can 
advantageously be rendered more comprehensive, 
without detriment to their substance or their science. 
To their substance, because they are gospel-truths— 
to their science, because they are instituted for them 
only who are properly ordained, as having a scien- 
tific knowledge of the principles of their profession. 





_ It was Mr. Gordon’s opinion, that the government 
of this empire has. not been sufficiently attentive to 
the vast national and individual utility of spreading 
school-establishments in connection with the great 
university and collegiate establishments, through 
every district of its territory, in descending grada- 
tions, adapted to the solid instruction and suitable 
training of the humblest of the people in religious 
and. moral habits. He was fully aware, that the 
human undestanding does not endure a vacuity, and 
that it is prone to run into incalculable and obstinate 


ACCOUNT, &c, , xiii 


errors on these vital subjects, when left to the feeble, 
unconnected efforts of its own unassisted powers: 
—that even should a man, by a lucky chance, hap- 
pily fall into a right course of thinking on these 
subjects, he still finds himself at sea, unsupported 
and unconnected, dependent on his native individual 
energies alone, to assist him against the winds and 
billows, which continually assail him in the voyage 
of life. He conceived it therefore the bounden duty 
of the supreme authorities of the state, which in 
respect to the public, are in this regard, in loco pa- 
rentis, to provide such establishments, and to make 
such arrangements universally, that the human 
mind, even in the humblest situations and rank of 
life, shall receive a right nourishment and due direc- 
tion, which may influence its conduct during the 
whole course of life. He did not think, that the 
youth of the country should be left to the chance 
direction and training of unconnected, and perhaps, 
blind guides—aye, and may be, perverse and mis- 
chievous guides; or to the casual influence of cheap 
tracts,* which, for the most part, they cannot even 


_* Tt must not be understood, from the above, that Mri Gordon was 
averse from the dissemination of cheap, judiciously written, tracts.—He, 
in fact, co-operated in that scheme.. He however did not deem it, even 
in conjunction with the Bell, or Lancaster Schools, a full and sufficient 
plan of national education. 


lxiv A SUMMARY ” 


read, and which their habits have never been formed 
to relish, or even to darkly understand. He did not 
deem it a system of national education to have youth- 
instructed in reading, writing, and arithmetic, only. 
He did not think that thus te impart an ‘arm of some 


strength to humana beings, which they may use in-) 


differently for ‘the public detriment or ‘the ‘public: 
service, without the guidance of religion, morality, 
or established authority, whether on the cheap, com- 
pendious, and fashionable plan ef Doctor Bell, or: 
Mr. Lancaster, wasa full and satisfactory plan of na-— 
tional education. He knew that reading, writing, and. 
cyphering, (as Cuddy Headrigg calls them) are things * 
quite compatible with the most absurd, wild, stupid, 
and mischievous opinions respecting the fundamental. 
ordonnances and duties, which should regulate and’ 
govern the constitution of society. That they, in’ 
fact, have neither.a necessary nor a natural tendency 
to give any salutary direction to the human under- 
standing. ‘They do not train up the child in the way 
he sheuld go. They implant no habit of order, reli-> . 
gion, or morality. They give a boy some ease and. 
firmness in his steps; but they do not instruct him 
in the least as to the ceurse most necessary for him- 
self and the public, that he should pursue in life.— 
They subject him in a very slight degree to mental 
discipline, or intellectual habits, and they do not con-:: 


ACCOUNT, dees lxy 


nect. his ideas’ with, any authority... They teach 
him no duty either to. God,..or man—They may 

as readily become, instruments of insuberdination, as 
of obedience.. Not,se, with.a right education, ineul- 
eated by proper heads, and connected. with the public 
authorities.. Mr. Gordon was indeed well aware, for 
he knew that human legislation. can work enly by ma- 
ral causes, that. after all, the best arranged. system. of 
national education, spreading the vigilance) of its wis, 
dom, by the most suitable and. sufficient. instructors, 
throughout, every district of the country, ean effeet, 
some tares will still, be found to spring up in. the me- 
ral, as well as in the natural. world... But still the 
proverb holds strengly and, significantly, that he who 
sows not good seed, sows, and will reap tares. Pro- 
vident. legislaters take care wisely and prospectively 
to cultivate the soil, and to sow good seed. Provident 
legislators well. know that youth is the season, in 
which to give aright direction to the human mind— 
that it can then, and then only, be easily and cheaply 
moulded te the shape which it ought to assume and 
retain through life. The. impressions then made on 
it, will last. long, 


Pia semel est imbuta recens, servabit odorem, 
esta dit. 


~ 


xvi A SUMMARY > 


Should we not therefore conclude, that the errors of 
opinion are, for the most part, involuntary, and are 
rather to be pitied than despised ; rather to be treated 
with emollient than caustic remedies: and are much 
more easily prevented by the universal spread of a 
right education, than to be rooted out by the repul- 
sive violence of harsh, restrictive, and ungrateful laws ? 
For it must be allowed, that most of them, and of the 
conduct flowing from them, are the effects of ill- 
training and consequent ignorance, evidences much 
more of the weakness of the human understanding, 
when left to its own unassisted guidance, than of the 
malevolence of the human heart: attributable much 
more to the defects of man’s education, than even to 
the perverseness of his understanding. ' If the ésta- 
blishments for public instruction, were as sedulously 
organized, as eagerly supported, as widely spread, and 
as deeply fixed, as those of the military, British society 
‘would,in another generation, wear a more contented, 
‘placid, and peaceable aspect. If half the pains and mo- 
ney were expended to train up youth, to model them to 
habits of public and private virtue, that are consumed to 
punish vices, and repress errors, society would make 
more rapid advances, in civility, than it does. Youth 
would be then trained in useful, uniform, and social 
principles, and not left, as they are now, to preceptors, 
unconnected in views, in discipline,and authority, with 


ACCOUNT, &c. ixvii 


the great national. establishments and public function- 
aries of their country. Self-restraint, an inbred re- _ 
gard. for order, anda rational, ‘manly submission to 
authority, would be generally worked iito: the. peo- 
ple’s habits... The best interests of society would spring 
from the culture, and.grow to the greatest public: and 
private happiness. ‘The weeds of pernicious opinion, 
which darken life, and Jessen its comforts, would be 
so effectually thinned by . auch a 1 beter as no A loniger: 
to Pinta ck the roth ae : Sbon 81! itis 
It is surely an shad anifable priniciple, howsoever it: | 
may have. been hitherto | pr ‘actically overlooked, ‘or 
neglected, that the public instruction is one of the first 
duties of the supreme authority of the state. If it 
were. not so, by what right can the publication of 
opinions detrimental to the public: happiness, and the 
good of society be enquired into and punished? . It is 
much easier, as well as more consonant with good- 
ness, to implant right propensities in youth, than to 
eracinate wrong ones in advanced age. If the public. 
authorities neglect the duty of public instruction, ‘the 
people dre left to themselves, to provide for the defi- 
ciency.as well as. they can. . If then the people may: 
have been instructed in opinions, and reared up with 
be RT Trralmane rnin to. the vi era, interest and 80-" 


- 


Ixviii & SUMMARY. 


cial order, those opinions and tendencies’ must ‘be 
rooted out or counteracted by force——by the force of 
arms: a dreadful remedy for an) evil, which a due 
vigilance and faithful falfilment of their duty on the 
part of the supreme authorities:of the country, would 
‘most effectually have prevented. Had: those authori- 
ties been ‘as serious and vigilant in establishing the 
means of’ national cultivation ; in providing suitable 
institutions and: instructors, for training, modeling, 
and directing the understandings ‘of the ‘youth: of so> 
ciety, as they are, in repressing their full grown, ob- 
stinate, noxious, and dangerous: propensities, the circle 
of their ‘own duties:would long since have been much 
_ narrowed, their course: smoothened; ‘their prospects 
cheered .and) extended on ‘all sides: ) gleams of ‘joy 
and gladness, instead ‘of sullenness, discontent ,and: de- 
fiance would have opened around them. And surely 
itis, as:much the interest, as) it is the duty, of the su- 
preme authorities of the state, that the youth of the 
country should receive :a salutary and due direction. 
lt belongs to sucha timely ‘wisdom, to:such ‘a provi- 
dent care,.as that» which we'have been contemplating, 
to relieve them from the painful: necessity of those, ‘or 
atleast nvest of those ‘inflictions, which cast an odium 
on authority. And no ‘country under ‘the sun, has’so 
strong a claim as Britain, for such beneficent attention 
of its legislators. No other country is so much ex- 


ACCOUNT, “&c. “ xix 


posed to sudden’ and violent inroads on its religion, 
morals, literature, and subordination, from the conti- 
nual fiux/and ‘reflux of(foreigners, from the indiscri- 
minate intercourse of its citizens, and their commix- 
ture with all the nations ‘of ‘the world.. From ‘the 
dissoluteness and mutual corruption of manufactories. 
Still further, and ina predominating degree, and in 
amore dangerous quarter, from the rapid ‘growth of 
wealth, in the conmmercial Classes, out of all propor- 
- tion with the progress of a réal; lideral cultivation, 
and the inherent checks whith it never fails to furnish, 
against the self-plumed presumption ‘of the haman 
mind: If ever the’British constitutidn perish, the 
ruin will be brought on; not by the corruption’ of the’ 
legislatare, (for no earthly ‘power'can corrupt talent : 
from the corruption of any of its branches, king, lords, 
or commons, or ‘by the sword of its ary’; but by the 
spreadof wealth among its people, in a degrée out of 
all proportion with 4well connected, well disciplined, 
national education—from a want of an habitual, esta- 
blished national/traiaing? of ‘all orders of citizens; Tine 
plaatingin them, if-early youth, a’sense of their social’ 
daties; with’ sore'solicitad’; and in a’ greattr dégrée,’ ~ 
than of ‘any attiteless in letters and ‘science, Which’ 
are in no danger of not being’ sufficiently cultivated, 
tending as they do: directly to the ilfustration of the’ 
individual.’ But the: mind @f the ‘country should be’ 


nationalized, as well as its wealth and power. The 
rays ‘of its intellect should be, trained to converge and 
contribute to the general glory and harmony. They 
have a natural tendency to scatter and spread wide, 
in a manner dangerous to public union; authority, 
and strength. To accomplish an end apparently so 
desirable, it needs only to extend and diffuse off- 
shoots in all directions from, and still in connection. 
with, the great. parent seminaries already in exist- 
ence, It only requires to revise and. enlarge the: 
plan of national education. To do. that on a well-- 
arranged system of union and; subordination, which 
individuals, and, societies of individuals, do now, on. 
the glimmering. lights. of .tyros.in knowledge. Let. 
a board. of education, consisting of the -heads of 
the. church, and_ of the. universities, be. invested. 
by. the. legislature. with power and, means. to bring 
a Teal, mora » rel igious education home to «the. 
lowest, as. “well, as the highest ranks, of society, and 
the thing will be done. , Let. the principle, be once. 
agreed, Sate lights will, every, day spring up to: 
purify and improye. it. .,.Half a.generation will: not, 
haye. passed off, when the clamours. of faction and dis-, 
content will have died away. The poor man’s cot-. 
tage, . whe n _ its inmates, shall have, been, thus; early 
trained in the. way they. should) 205 will then ‘no. 
longer. envy. the palace -of the great, . “The. pedsant - 


‘ACCOUNT, &c. Ixxi 


will have been taught, that the great ones of the 
earth are as useful to him, in the scheme of society, 
as he is to them; and all will be embraced “ in one 
wide system of benevolence.’—Finally, in justice to 
Mr. Gordon’s memory, it is right to explain, in a 
few words, his political opinions. It is the more so, 
because they have been utterly mistaken and misre- 
presented. It was indeed his misfortune, or his 
happiness, to sometimes entertain different  senti- 
ments from the decisions of authority; but he was. 
not. prone to infer, that the authority which he dis- 
‘sented from was less pure or less incorrupt than 
himself—“ hane veniam damus petimus que vicis- 
sim.” —He, like the great imperturbable champion of 
political freedom, and his country’s honour, the il- 
Justrious Charles Fox, had studied the history of 
man and nations, and was of that order of thinking 
beings, who see events in their causes, and reading, 
as it were, the future in the past, would prevent 
those evils which the wisdom of others teaches, at 
best, only to remedy ; and which, perhaps, would 
not have been remedied, were it not for the provi- 
dential interference of a Russian campain, and the 
drunken ambition of a id 


He understood, as well as Mr. Burke, that the 
wisest aml honestest politicians, must occasionally 


Ixxit A SUMMARY 


<6 vary their , means, to. attain the unity of, their 
end.” This great maxim of social prudence—this 
sound principle | of civil wisdom, was not adopted by 
him to. furnish a contingent excuse, or to throw a 
veil over his own backslidings, He deemed it a 
maxim, of most especial force, and recurrent appli- 
cation, in such a government as that of Britain, com+ 
pounded as it is, of all the orders of society, and 
partaking 0 of all its interests. In such a government, 
hensive ‘minds will often feel real. difficulties. of opi- 
nion, in deciding | on the modification, adjustment, 
and adoption of very many measures, He could 
not, however, conceive how a man, at once wise 
- and honest, practised. in all the ways of mankind, 

and long conversant in all the intricacies of public 
life, should designate “kings, as lovers of low com- 
pany,” and yet regard and throw the mantle of. his 
eloquence around them, as if beings almost. super- 
human, and of authority indefeasible. Mr. Gordon 
did indeed deem this a kind of sailing north by 
south, not to be acquired by the ablest, navigator, 
taught in any honest school of political traversing. 
He could not, like Mr. Burke, perceive in what, 
the right of the American people to revolt and 
independence from the comparatively mild and pa- 


ternal government of Britain, was. more | ‘sacred and 


ACCOUNT, &e. _ Ixxiii 


excusable than that of the French people, from a_ 
grinding and humiliating despotism. He did not 
confound in his mind, howsoever others might in 
theirs, the right to an amended and reformed go- 
vernment, with the bloody and disgusting atrocities 
displayed by Frenchmen: atrocities which, although 
from their extent and modes of perpetration, they 
cast an indelible stain on the French character, can 
never sink the value of national independence and 
individual freedom; of Jaw, or liberty, in the mind 
of any reasonable being in any country. Nay, these 
very atrocities are calculated to enhance the sacred 
and eternal value of regulated freedom ; because, in 
a national sense, such atrocities are the genuine off- 
spring engendered by despotic, unbalanced power, the 
frightful parent of so numerous ills to mankind. 


Mr. Gordon’s admiration of the British constitu- 
tion, was for the aggregate and collective body, and 
for the manly, rational, and salutary spirit of openess 
which characterises its operations, and tempers: its 
proceedings. His eyes were not raised in adoration 
of the throne, as a separate, independent power.— 
There was no sycophancy in his respect: the due, 
hereditary authority of the crown, limited .and _le- 
galized, was, in his opinion, as mucha blessing to 
the people as to the sovereign. ‘Thus circumstanced, 

k gs 


Ixxiv A SUMMARY 


thus surrounded by constitutional checks and respon- 
sible ministers, he is exempted from the capricious 
passions generated by an uncontroulable authority, 
or prerogative absolute ; and all the dangerous and. 
pernicious consequences ‘resulting from them.  Ivrre- 
sponsible in his own person, and placed at ease, above 
the reach and fog of all domestic. factions, and. of all. 
temptations from foreign influence or corruption, the. 
sovereign “ has leisure to be good.” Thus, not merely 
his inclinations, but his habits, will be liberalized ;. 
encompassed as he is, by all the motives which human 
institutions can provide, to engage benevolence, and 
to ensure the public utility. Nor were Mr. Gordon’s 
affections, or his reason, prostrated to the aristocracy, 
whose just weight, and liberal, high- bred habits, @ 

cunabulis, he always advocated, in connection with 
the other parts of the constitution. In his admira- 
tion of an hereditary nobility, connected in constitu- 
tional power, and identified, in social interest, with 
all the other parts of society, he saw not only a 
higher polish, but a greater strength given to the 
barriers of law and liberty. He considered them not 
enly as ‘‘ Corinthian capitals,” but as pillars too, in 
the edifice of society—monolithic shafts, contributing © 
_ at once to its beauty and duration. Still farther was 
he from resigning his reason, or his will, to. the capri-. 
cious, unbalanced, and for the most part, blood-stained 


ACCOUNT, &c. Ixxy 


tyranny. of.the democracy—a power dangerous to 
itself, even more than to its opponents—an unteavened 
mass of. intellectual matter, a vis concilii éxpers, 
executing its own decrees this day, with a blind and 
fatal promptitude, and to-morrow bowed in stupid 
idolatry before some Baal of its own creation—some 
military .tyrant—some Buonaparte, or some ‘Crom- 
well— ; 

“4 “ The gaze of fools, and pageant of a day.” 


' He knew, (for he had studied history,) that any 
of these powers separately considered, affords no pro- 
tection, or guarantee for human happiness; but that 
the judicious admixture of all, as happily and for- 
tunately blended in the British constitution, forming 
the mingled mass of all ranks of the primores populi, 
the only legitimate law-givers of every country, bids 
fair to be co-equal with the duration of the human 
race in this empire, and will most probably infiu- 
ence, by the force of its example, the destinies of 
other nations. 


Mr. Gordon lived to see almost all the hopes, which 

a patriotic philosopher of a sanguine complexion, can 

form for his country, realized and placed in a train 

of illimitable improvement by the truly constitution- 
k2 : 


Ixxvi A SUMMARY 


al principles and conduct of the regency. He lived 
to see wisdom and vigour combined with every spe- 
cies of public beneficence, in the councils of his coun- 
try. He‘ saw the most perilous and extended war, 
in which this empire was ever engaged, brought to a 
most. glorious and most advantageous termination. 
He saw the very name of a Briton a title of respect, 
and a passport through the world. He lived to see the 
nations, which were thrown down and shattered by 
the violence of foreign, military tyranny, reconstruct- 
ed, by British influence and British wisdom ; and re- 
stored to their balance among each other, with im- 
_ proved arrangement and steadier securities ; and their 
equipoise thus rendered less liable to any chance of 
future disturbance. He lived to see the vessel of the 
state conducted with the most rare skill, in the sud- 
den and violent reflux consequent upon the transit 
froma most extended warfare of so long duration, to 
a profund and universal peace. He indeed deemed 
this civil glory equal, if not superior to any glory 
that can be gained by the greatest exploits of war.— 

In the exploits of war too, he saw the conduct of his 
country, and the fame of her heroes, eclipse, in every 
quarter of the globe, the glories of all other nations. 
Supereminent above all, he admired the deliverer of 
the civilized world, -his _ country qnany the immortal 
Wellington. © | , 


ACCOUNT, &¢.. | Ixxvii 


As to the charges of corruption made against -par- 
liament, he considered them as vague and. unfounded 
charges, mere expressions of jealousy, presumption, or 
disappointment. He was fully satisfied, that the le- 
gislature, in all its branches, is free from every taint 
of corruption, or tendency to foreign influence. As 
to domestic influence, he knew not how any govern- 
ment can be conducted without it. He sawit a living 
and predominating principle among all ranks and 
descriptions of men in society. . All men of all par- 
ties assist, and confer favours on their friends, rather 
than on those, who, though perhaps more meritorious, 
are not sorelated to them. They who are loudest in 
their complaints against it, are neither last, nor least 
in their practice of this great political offence. The an- 
archic, drunken turbulence.and swinish gluttony of 
annual elections, or the phrenetic, bloody tyranny of 
universal suffrage did not appear.to his understanding 
a cure for this evil, real, or apprehended. Far from 
considering the boroughs of Britain. the cause of its 
evils, he regarded them, when contemplated asa pro- 
portional part in the actual, practical system, (for, as to 
theories, paper-constitutions forged on the anvil of 
metaphysical heads, he utterly despised them). of 
parliamentary representation, as a public benefit and 
providential blessing. He regarded them as. the 
doors—almost the only doors throng which heaven- 


AXXVill A SUMMARY 


born talents, not accompanied with hereditary for- 
tune, can enter into the sanctuary and management 
of public affairs. By the intervention of boroughs, 
‘he thought that the solid, lumpish, and unleavened 
matter of the great landed aristocracy, was happily 
fermented. He saw, that through this door, the 
greatest statesmen, Britain or any other country 
has ever exhibited, have passed—the Walpoles, the 
Pits, Fox, Grattan, &c. He saw that the substantial 
interests of all ranks, orders, and degrees of men in 
society, were thus most effectually protected and ad- 
vanced. He judged of the scheme, by the practical 
benefits which it produces. on one hand, and the evils 
which it wards off on the other. By the proud eleva- 
tion to which it has raised this empire in peace and 
- war,at home and abroad. All experience, all the evi- 
dences of history, all the impressions of fact, real ways 
beyond the fallacious promise of splendid hypothesis, 
or audacious conjecture, taught him, that the repre- 
sentative of an obscure borough is as vigilant and bene- 
ficial a legislator, as incorrupt, and understands the 
interests of the empire, in all its relations, domestic 
and foreign, as he who is returned by the most exten- 
_Sive. county. Let it be asked, by what conceivable 
plan cana body of men, more deeply interested in the 
public prosperity, be collected, than the aggregate body 
of the present house of Commons, in the imperial par- 


ACCOUNT, &c. Ixxix 


liament. If it be evident, as it would appear to be, to 
any calm considerate mind, that it is utterly impracti- 
cable, by any imaginable process, to bring together a _ 
body of men more. deeply imterested in, and more 
profoundly intelligent, as to the means of promoting 
the public happiness; it is then merely puerile and 
pedantic, to dwell in long-winded, or acrimonious 
verbiage, on the anomalous, irregular system of elec- 
tion, by which the house of Commons is. at present 
formed. The science of legislation is made up of 
practical sound sense, and good feeling, and ‘holds on 
a clearer anda steadier course, than the palpable ob- 
scure of merely theoretic wisdom, which never fully 
applies to, or takes a’ luminous view of all the cir- 
cumstances of human affairs; and knows not: how 
to make due allowance for the varied friction, aad 
the up-and-down-hill movements of society. 


While the the great bulk of the representatives in 
the imperial parliament may continue, as they: are, 
fully and to all practical purposes, identified in in- 
terest with the soil of their country, and with the 
blood and mass of its population, subject in their own 
persons and estates, to the laws of their own enact- 
ing, and exercising their functions, apertis foribus, in 
the face of the public, by whom their individual 
character and conduct may be scrutinized, there is 


xxx A SUMMARY 


not only no danger, but not even a possibility of any 
general corruption running through them. No mi- 
nistry, howsoever. profligate, can buy off a majority 
in the British senate, to betray what they conceive to 
be the interest of the empire. The grounds of their 
attachment. to their country, are every Way in an 
immeasurable degree stronger than any: ministry, 
even if so disposed, (which is altogether a violent and 
gratuitous assumption,) can, with the utmost efforts 
of his profligacy, even if he had ten times the amount 
which he_ possesses of secret and public influence, 
oppose against them. Ministers are, doubtlessly, 
obnoxious like other men, to the errors of opinion ;. 
but their obliquity gives no assurance of the recti- 
tude of their opponents. There is no certainty, that 
the film which obscures the one, may not also bedim 
the other. . They are in unison and analogy with the 
progress of society—not the mushroom contrivance of 
system- ripping mEelErs: 


‘In Mr. Ghrdon’s opinion the reformatian most 
wanted in the practice of the constitution, and law, 
lay in the constituency and not in the representative 
body. It seemed to him desirable to bring back the 
law. toits original spirit and intention, respecting the. 
qualification for freeholders. Time and circum- 
stances have so altered the effective value of money, 


ACCOUNT, &c. Ixxxi. 


that perhaps thirty pounds a year now, is not more 
than equal to what two pounds, the qualification of. 
an elector originally was. Such a reformation would 
not at all disturb the right, or self-protecting inftu- 
ence of property, a thing ever to be held sacred by 
the laws. But it would gradually bring back the 
tenantry to that state and condition, which they 
should always enjoy, of a well-fed,. well-clothed, well- 
housed body of men. Such a reformation would not 
in the least alter the relative weight and consequence: 
ef landed property; and it would efféctually check 
the growth and spread of a poor, ragged, broken- 
hearted peasantry, now known even by the law, as 
freeholders. | They, who favour the present practice, 
do: not come armed with a very forcible argument 
against universal suffrage, and mob-government.— 
They rather fortify themselves in. the blind hope of 
rising on the shoulders of a profligate, because poor 
and beggarly populace, than in the steady and useful 
attachments of property, on which, the prosperity 
of humar society, is founded. It is however urged, 
that a man not possessing political power, elective 
franchise, has no sufficient security for his life and 
liberty. Laws to which he has never assented by him- 
self, or his- representative, may deprive him of both. 
It is therefore inferred, that every man (and it may, 
by the same reasoning, be inferred, that.every man, 
Z . 


Ixxxii A SUMMARY 


woman and child) has a natural, inherent right to 
an equal share in making the laws, or in appoint- 
ing the ‘law-makers. This sycophantic and delusive 
jargon is, as false in fact, as it is, in its consequences, 
subversive of the best interests of society. It is false, 
that men are equal by nature, or reason. Nature 
and reason make the inequality between man and 
man, even greater. than human institutions do. 
The bodily strength and intellectual powers of man 
and man, differ more widely even than the for- 
tunes of citizen and citizen. All men cannot there- 
fore be equally entitled to political power, by natural 
law. Society cannot be founded on such a presump- 
tion so much at variance with nature, and with fact. 
The right to political power is therefore a modifica- 
tion of human convenience (not an abstract principle 
levelling all conditions) for the advantage of society ; 
and has, most wisely, been attached to property, as a 
shield of protection against the blind rapacity of the 
poor and needy, who are necessarily surrounded by 
temptations to seize on and disturb. property, which 
the rich and powerful have not to injure life and li- 
berty, On the contrary the natural impulse of the 
rich and powerful, when established in their rights 
unassailably, is to protect, by wholesome laws, the 
life and liberty of the poor and needy, to come to 
their assistance. in all emergencies-of sickness, or of 





ACCOUNT, &e. . | Ixxxiii 


sorrow, of hunger or. of dearth. But the natural 
impulse of the poor and needy, is to disturb and appro- 
priate to themselves, the advantages of the rich and 
powerful, although any’ individual’s share of the 
plunder could be small indeed. Property therefore, 
which is the object and the aim of all human indus- 
try, manual and intellectual, requires bulwarks -of 
self-defence, not at all necessary, or useful to men, 
not possessed of it. Property generally begets habits — 
tranquil and quiescent. It is. therefore useful in a 

scheme of national representation, that a door should 
be kept open, by which property can associate to itself. 
ether qualities, in sufficient abundance to enliven and 
enlarge its views. ‘That the talents of the land, of 
whatsoever description, may be thus, for all useful 
purposes, sufficiently represented, and enchained to the 
public service, which, if not thus enlisted, they would 
otherwise disturb and impair. After all, when we 
consider the imperial house of commons, a miscella- 
neous mass of all, that is eminent in society, in which 
also property preponderates; yet we will find, by the 
evidence of history, and the analogy of human nature, 
that were it not balanced on the other side by the house 
of lords; and both of these houses, compressed by the 
great (it is to be doubted whether now sufficiently: 
great) influence of the crown, it would be obnoxious’ 

k 2 | 


Ixxxiv A SUMMARY 


to most dangerous oscillations, and would otherwise, 
notwithstanding the gravity of its materials, soon 
swing from its centre, split into factions, and perish 
by the sword of some new military demagogue. 


Law, andl sibdety, property, peace, and life itself, 
must be protected by arms. All other men, as well 
as kings, find their last reason in arms. ‘The neces- 
sity for arms attaches to society in all its stages, from 
savage life, up to the highest refinement. As people 
multiply—as the arts of peace advance—as property 
accumulates, and life refines, arms become a separate 
profession: The difficulty then is, to socialize the 
profession—to infuse, as it were, through the very 
marrow of the military body, an habitual disposition 
for submission to the civil authority, with a conti- 
nual aptitude for war. How to reconcile such dis- 
cordant elements, is a problem of so great difficulty, 
that only the institutions of this country have ever 
effectually solved it. In other countries, whenever - 
the army is extended in a degree commensurate 
with the wants of war and the national defence, it 
becomes, on return of peace, terrific to the public 
liberty. The great military leaders and officers of 
foreign armies, have no civil interest superior, or 
equivalent, to ‘that of their military profession.— 
They are soldiers of fortune, whose souls are absorbed 


ACCOUNT, &c. Ixxxv 


by war; and they cut and carve for themselves.— 
Their pay, their plunder, and their glory, are the 
sole motives and object of their lives, never ending, 
the soldier of other nations cannot bear to subside 
into the citizen; and the citizen must endure the 
soldier. In other countries, the character of both 
cannot be said to blend. 'The general policy of other 
countries seems to say, that the military body should 
be as distinct in interest as in profession, from the 
other orders of society. That there shonld_ be 
pride on one side, and abasement on the other, 
—The institutions of this empire (as if heaven- 
descended, certainly built up by a heaven-descended 
wisdom) order matters better; and the soldier and 
the citizen, from the highest ranks of life to the 
lowest, comruingle in social interest, feeling, and 
fellowship. The paramount aim of both, equally, 
is to support and improve the laws, and to assert 
their sanctity and independence against all foreign 
force, or domestic factions. The soldier’s submission 
to the laws, in this empire, is as ready and as 
tame as that of any other man. The chivalrous 
spirit of a proud and. dignified obedience, can, 
with no propriety, be said to be extinguished, or 
even to languish. It is woven into the soldier’s ha- — 
bits—deeply appreciated by his reason, and suspends 
his arm before the majesty of the laws. 


Ixxxvi A SUMMARY 


Mr. Gordon was decidedly of opinion, that this 
empire is encompassed by a political necessity, to 
keep a watchful guard against the too great prepon- 
derance of any foreign nation—as Spain, Germany, 
Russia, France, &c. He knew that the nature of all 
power is accumulative, and requires to be watched 
by the measures of vigilance and circumspection. 
That a Semiramis of the North may be as dangerous 
to national independence and commercial freedom, 
as a Philip the Second in the South: that the spirit 
of lawless ambition is the same, whether in a Char- 
lemagne, or a Charles the Fifth—a Lewis the Four- 
teenth, ora Buonaparte, 


He entirely concurred in opinion with those _poli- 
ticians who build the throne on an hereditary foun- 
dation, and raise it above all competition in splendour 
at home, and above all chance‘of temptation from 
abroad: but his understanding widely differed from 
those, who wish to see the throne surrounded by a 
set of beggarly officers, with stunted and curtailed 
salaries, scarcely equal to the profits of a thriving 
shop-keeper. He thought such provisions not only 
incongruous and inconsistent in their nature, but 
dangerous in their consequences; inasmuch as the 
steadier and more independent those props by which 
the crown is surrounded may be, the stronger the 


ACCOUNT, «ce. Ixxxvii 


ties by which they are held to the civil constitution, 
the less danger there is of their giving way to the 
pressure. of so great a power. He well knew, that 
those thrones whose princes are served by slaves, or by 
officers approaching in their salaries to an estate of sla- 
very or meanness, are eventually neither cheaper nor 
more beneficial than the splendid monarchy, which 
only freedom knows how to erect, or can support. 
He had therefore no envy against the large salaries 
and pre-eminent respectability of public men. He 
thought, that as society advanced in wealth and 
splendour, the provision for the public service and 
its functionaries, should advance, part passu. That 
thus only can a government become an emanation 
from, and be a just representative of society, by 
embodying in the publie service a sufficient pro 
portion of all that is great, and illustrioug in the 
country. He could not be persuaded that mean 
salaries are the best securities for the fidelity of 
public functionaries; and he knew that those sala- 
ries, even more certainly than the incomes of pri- 
vaie men, being expended at home, quickly re- 
turn into the bosom of society, and give a new 
impetus to arts and industry. He did not, how- 
ever, conclude that the abuses and malversations 
of office, should be tolerated. Fn his opinion, those 
public concerns call for the public attention, and due 


Ixxxviii A SUMMARY 


scrutiny,; and that in. this empire they are not now 
neglected.. He only contended, that public officers 
should be at least placed. on a level with the cor- 
responding ranks. of society. 


Mr. Gordon’s opinion, like Mr. Hume’s respecting 
a public, national debt, does not appear to have been 
formed with his usual caution and circumspect in- 
vestigation. He did not sufficiently distinguish be- 
tyveen such. a debt, as affecting a despotical govern- 
ment; and, as affecting a government constituted, as 
is that of this empire, in which all the various, im- 
portant interests of society havea practical advalorem 
representation. Although in a despotical state, a small 
public debt, tends to stablish the sovereign, till the 
means to satisfy the stipulated interest fail; yet 
when Spieniesse beyond this point, it then imme- 
diately becomes the fatal signal fer discontent, revolt 
and revolution—Witness France.. Onsuch occasions, 
under such governments, unsocial and despotical, 
each order of society stands on its own unconnected, 
isolated foundation, and asserts its own peculiar and 
selfish privileges, like an ally in a confederacy, rather 
than as a component part of one homogenial body. 
But in a government, such as that of this empire, 
emanating from and having a practically inherent 
connection, and identity of interest with all the im- 


ACCOUNT, &e.  Ixxxix 


portant interests of ‘society, there is no such danger. 
Such a government has a safety-valve adapted te the | 
vast power of the machine. As the principal of the 
national debt rises—as the elastic gas ascends, the 
valve gives way—the interest sinks. In this scheme, 
matters arrange themselves by a self-motion, native 
and inherent, on the principle of family-concord, and. 
mutual advantage. When capital can be more pro- 
fitably employed in trade and business, the tax of 
the national debt is the more easily borne. When 
capital can be less profitably employed in business, 
men become desirous to invest it in the public 
funds, and this competition sinks the rate of interest 
to the public means of paying it. In despotic: go- 
vernments, a debt is that of the state only, and 
wears all the harsh features of a private contract. 
it is a bond in the hands of a Shylock, possessing 
no softening, mitigable quality. But in a country; 
whose government is constituted as ours is, it has 
an entirely different character. Although it cannot 
be said to be the cause of the nation’s prosperity, 
it is an evidence and an index of national improve- 
ment—it is an evidence and an index of the great 
commercial wealth of the country. Loans cannot 
be raised at home till wealth has accumulated.— 
When it becomes so greatly accumulated as it has 
in this empire, it is fortunate that it can be fixed 
m 


ac A SUMMARY 


and nationalized in the public funds. It is thus 
prevented from taking wing to foreign shores, and 
fructifying, perhaps, hostile countries. It thus 
becomes an additional anchor to ensure the public 
domestic tranquillity—a fulcrum on which to support — 
the national power in a manner most effectual, 
against all hostile attacks. It thus imparts a princely 
spirit to the mercantile interest, and renders mer- 
chants, by blending them in the magistracy and 
government of their country, in the words of scrip- 
ture, “great men of the earth.’—Nor does the bles- 
sing end here—it spreads through, and jhas a genial. 
infiuence over the conduct and affairs of private 
life. ‘When men see that prosperity in trade may 
lifé them and their families to contact with ancient. 
greatness and modern renown, and give them a. 
participation in the government of their country, 
their feelings become liberalized by their hopes; and 
we all know the strength and force of hope. <A 
public debt, as it exists in this empire, is therefore: 
a commercial, political, and moral blessing.—Britain,, 
the most improved and prosperous nation under the 
sun, has the greatest national. debt. It is, perhaps,. 
_ greater in its amount, than. the aggregate of all the 
public debts of all the countries of the world. But 
are the citizens of any other country, ceteris pari- 
-Ous, more at their ease ?. Isindustry better rewarded 


- ACCOUNT, Ke. Ker 


in other countries supporting an equal population ? 
Have men generally more ehances, or greater proba- 
bility of becoming independent by an honourable: 
exertion of their talenis in professions, or in trades ? 
Are the labouring classes of society better fed, clothed, 

and: housed, in: other countries? If not, can the na- 
tional debt be said to press against the national pros- 
_perity? Has it not advanced with the growth of 
society itself, by mutual and voluntary agreement, 
and gradual stages? Has: it not, and does it not, sup- 
port and: propel every national interest and glory ? 
Has it not been formed from the successive accumu- 
lations of provident and fortunate individuals, in alk 
the arts, trades, and professions, which maintain and 
polish society? Can it in reason, in justice, or in 
equity, be held less sacred and secure, than any other 
property ? Are the social and voluntary pacts of 
society to be held less indefeasible, than those which, 
often commencing in violence and blood, were sub- 
sequently, with the greatest propriety and utility 
public and private, ratified by law, as a constituent 
component principle of society itself. Surely then 
the national debt has as strong a claim of indefea- 
sible right and elemental consideration. It is, how- 
ever, not uncommon to hear it confounded with the 
causes: which preduced it. Fo hear arguments aimed 
to unsettle the foundations on which it rests, by 

m 2 


xeii A SUMMARY 


mixing it up with the politics of the years that 
are past. This is an unjust mode of reasoning.— 
The national debt ably and well supported the na- 
tional interests. It completely soldered all the 
breaches made by past blunders, inexperience and folly, 
and carried the national interests and glory, through 
bad and good fortune, through all the chances of bat- 
tle and the conflicts of party, to the most triumphant 
issue.. It protected the public from all dangerous 
blows foreign or domestic: and whenever it may be 
accom panied with a system of national education, suf- 
ficiently extensive to embrace, to train, and modify the 
great mass of the national intellect, and to give it a 
uniform direction, the national interests and glory, 
will be then so thoroughly rooted, as to endure 
through a long series of ages and generations. 


Without the existence of a national debt, it is evi- 
dent, that the honour and interests of this empire, 
could not have been so effectually sustained by taxes 
_vaised to provide, within each year, for its own ex- 
penses. But by the instrumentality of the national 
debt, the prosperity of merchants becomes the same as 
the public prosperity. Both interests are thus identi- 
_fied. Property, which has a natural-tendency, to fix 
itself capriciously, in large masses of accumulation, 
in the coffers of fortunate individuals is thus re-distri- 


ACCOUNT, &c. XChik 


buted, and, in form of the public expenditure, sivesan 
impetus to artsand industry; and renders the public 
burdens more gradual, less sensible and less oppressive. 
Let the amount of this debt be whatever it may, the 
fair question is, whether the national means are more 
depressed by it, than they must necessarily have been 
by providing for the national exigencies without it. 
If it beclear, that to. have provided for the national. 
expenses, by annual taxes, to the amount of those ex- 
penses, as the public service called for them, would, 
have repressed and paralyzed the national powers of 
industry and reproduction, much more than to pay a 
gradual interest for the sum of those expenses, it is 
evident, that the national debt, on the whole amount, 
is beneficial, as at least a cure fora greater evil. Now 
at five per centum,. twenty millions can. be raised for 
one million of taxes. The prompt expenditure of 
twenty millions enables a country to obtain. advan- 
tages, which it could not obtain by the slow process of 
raising forty, or even perhaps. sixty millions in a se- 
ries of four or six years. The national debt. has thus 
then put this.empire in a proud attitude,, to which it 
eould not otherwise have attained... Its honour thus 
asserted supports. its interests, and its. interests thus 
supported, makes. the condition of every. individual 
subject, ceteris puribus, much less difficult to be borne, 
Yet it is boldly asserted, that the national debt of thie 


xeiv- | A SUMMARY | 


empire. presses’ against manufacturing arts and. in- 
dustry, and enhances their price beyond what they 
would otherwise be, in all foreign markets. Hf it 
were. as easy to prove a proposition, and satisfy the 
mind, as it is to make an assertion, the logic of all 
men would be pretty much om a level. Nature, 
which gives different advantages to different. men, 
deals in the same manner by nations; and doubtlessly. 
several manufactures are better adapted to’ the genius 
and climate of other countries than to ourown. ‘The 
existence and intervention of the debt have main- 
tained and kept alive many a manufacture among 
us, which would have been in ruin without it—or 
rather the whole fabric of our national manufactares, 
would have participated in the ruin, which the ex- 
istence and intervention of the debt, have saved the 
| public fortunes from. Let us net therefore envy the 
blessings of Providence and the developement of their 
industry to other nations. Their prosperity will 
make them better, because richer and abler customers 
for those articles, with which we can. best. supply their 
wants. This isthe true principle of trade, a barter 
of equivalents—real or imaginary. This principle, 
whether founded on reason, or on instinct; on a weil 
judging taste, or a wild caprice, gives: birth to: the 
industry of nations; and propels‘ men to the: produc- 
tion of articles, which never would be formed at 


ACCOUNT, &c, xev 


home, were it not, to command articles from abroad, 
which too, would never have had existence, had no 
such reciprocity existed. In the commercial world, 
the wealth and prosperity of every individual country, 
eontribute to the wealth and prosperity of all others. 
Thus, to compare extremes, the poor Indian, whe 
dtraverses the vast north western. wilderness, becomes 
gradually civilized, by the altogether fantastic and 
superfluous wants of the beaus.and belles of the polite 
world. The market, which is-thus opened to him, 
for the produce of the chace, gradually teaches him 
mew wants, and supplies them: more conformably te 
his growing tastes, than le had ever been: accustomed 
to. Thus the vanity of one part of our species 
awakens the dormant powers and excites the industry: 
ef the rest, Thus the national debt of this empire, 
places it, in such a high, strong, and commanding 
position, that the entire faculties of her people may 
be developed to the greatest advantage. The whole. 
commercial world is thus invelved in the continuance 
of cher prosperity.. She is thus rendered the-centre, 
towards which the conmmercial interests of the world 
gravitate;and round which they move. Her prospe-. 
rity is thus founded, not in the Joose and shitting 
sands of man’s opinion merely, but in the adhe- 
sive soil of his interests also. If man had not a 
stronger tendency to pursve his interest, than ‘to 


‘xevi A SUMMARY © 


embrace the fleeting meteors of opinion. If this 
instinct does not impart circumspection to his -rea- 
soning, and caution to his conclusions, the debt of 
this empire would be subjected to shocks and varia- 
tions, much more rude and violent, than it is. If 
the payers of taxes, were not, in a great degree the 
payees also, their discontent would manifest itself, in 
a manner much more formidable, than the clamour 
of a populace. But the interest of those, who give the 
tone to public opinion, governs the stops, and ven- 
tages, which produce the national concord, and the 
greatest practicable, public prosperity. It is thus, that 
the national debt gives, in this empire, steadiness to 
the Euripus of commerce, the fleetingness of opinion, 
and the fugaciousness of capital, As it encreases 
man’s wants, asit multiplies his desires—it teaches to 
provide for their gratification in the greatest abun- 
dance, and at the cheapest relative rate. If it en- 
hances the price of articles contributing to the ease 
and comfort of human life, it enhances in a still 
greater degree, the general price of the labour neces- 
sary to the manufacture and production of those arti- 
cles; so that, fairly speaking, the comforts and conve- 
nience of the labouring classes are encreased by it. 


_ Finally, experience shews that the national debt, 
(that is to say any fixed amount of debt) has a na-— 


AccouNT, &e. XcvVii 


tural, tendency to decrease in weight de die in diem— 
in an adequate proportion to the accumulation of ca- 
pital, to the extension and perfection of the arts of 
civilized life, and to the ratio of mercantile profits, al- 
ways, in all its phases, adjusting itself, to the ptblic 
convenience, and ministering as by a vernal process, to 
social advancement and national prosperity. That it 
liberalizes public and private liberty, and teaches it to 
look defiance only against the enemies of British in- 
stitutions. But this defiance, how great soever, is 
simply defensive, and aims no blow at the prosperity 
and trenches not on the happiness of others. -It is 
merely a vivid indication of a determination to pro- 
tect their own. Honores mutant mores—is an axiom 
as true of nations, as of individuals; and doubtlessly 
wealth and strength and power, success and victory, 
impart a tone, a carriage and a demeanour widely 
different from the struggles of poverty, weakness and 
defeat. Buonaparte, the day after the battle of Wa- 
terloo, presented a very different face, from that with 
which he scowled on the nations of Europe after the 
battle of Austerlitz. : 


Some projectors gravely propose to pay off, (or an- 
nihilate rather) the national debt, by a great, national 
-effort—by a level on the property of the individuals, 
who compose these nations. It is not however, an 

_ vt " 


xevili __A SUMMARY 


altogether evident, axiomatical truth how’ the indi- 
viduals or the nation can be thus relieved. On this 
project so much property should be brought to mar- 
ket, that it is pretty plain prices would sink in a de- 
gree so frightful and fatal, as to mock the calculation 
of the projector. Neither, if the project were practi- 
eable are itsadvantages more evident. How individu- 
als can be bettered in their fortunes and condition by 
subtracting from the principal, rather than by an 
efficiently slighter reduction of their income, in the 
form of taxes, (which paid by one hand of society are 
received by the other and to which all prices and. in- 
comes are adjusted) is indeed so problematical, as to 
be, to common understandings of very difficult solu- 
tion. This calculus seems to savour more of the arith- 
metic of a school-boy, than of a statesman. It does 
not consider, that the public stock of wealth, or the 
national powers of reproduction cannot he thus en- 
creased ; and that such a scheme can never be realized 
without the violence and mischief, public and private, 
of a tumurluary, revolutionary transfer. That it has 
therefore a. manifest tendency to entail upon these 
countries much of that evil under which France still 
labours; and is new only recovering from ; | 


* It is but a part it sees and not the whole.” 


It concludes the debt to be an evil—yea, a curse, and 
then in just raciocination (wrong only in principle, 


ACCOUNT, &c. Rix 


sandy only in foundation) it infers, that to rid the na- 
tion of it, aug any means soever is a blessin g. 


To pay off the debt, or to annihilate it, if practica- 
ble, would not add to the stock of national, or indi- 
vidual wealth. It would not encrease agricultural, 
manufacturing, or mercantile products. It would 
hot open new markets at home, or abroad beneficial 
to the empire. Instead of spreading arts, and indus- 
try, it would evidently repress, or banish the springs 
of arts and industry, and reproductive power from 
these countries. At present there in no deficiency of 
capital felt for the purposes of trade. The evil is in 
the want of means and channels in which to em- 
ploy capital. If capital cannot be employed; or 
if income cannot be derived from it at home, © 
it will infallibly seek employment and income in 
foreign lands. Abandoning, therefore, this nostrum, 
which is too full of promise, and of too rapid 
and violent operation, to be sanative, or safe, let 
an amelioration of the public fortunes be sought 
where they have always been infallibly found—in an 
adherence to the ordinary modes which Divine Pro- 
vidence has ordained to found and advance all human 
prosperity—in a greater and more wnshackled free- 
dom of trade; or by equitable, that is to say; mutu- 
ally advantageous, commercial treaties with’ ee 

nm 2 | 


re - & SUMMARY 


nations, (if commercial treaties should be deemed 
useful, which is questionable, ) by rendering, the laws, 
where practicable, more equal, just, and impartial— 
by systematized, foreign colonization, which may in 
distant time be as out-posts, and points d’appui for 
the body of the empire-off-sets ; from which, in future 
ages, the well-regulated spirit of British freedom, 
may be diffused through all climates of the world.— 
Such seem to be the chief practicable means of 
encreasing the national wealth and industry —of 
adding to its prosperity and happiness: except, in- 
deed, we should be inclined to adopt the plan of 
Dean Swift, which is still more sagacious than that 
of our more modern projector—viz. to kill one part 
of the population with which to feed the other, and 
to tan their hides to make summer-boots for the 
dandies and exquisites of our time. If a shower of 
gold could be poured upon the land, as. if by volcanic 
eruption, sufficient to pay off the national debt in 
an hour, it would not bea jot more beneficial:to the 
nation, than the above laudable project of the witty 
and patriotic Dean. The money, to be useful, should 
be used; and as the capital already on hands cannot 
find channels of employment, the proprietors of. this 
portentous shower of gold, should starve at home, or 
-«arry the metal to other countries to make profit of 
it. The ultimate conclusion would then appear to 


ry} 


ACCOUNT, &c. ch 


be, that national prosperity is of a regular growth, 
and cannot be forced by a jerk of authority, although, 
like the oak of the forest, which continues to spread 
indefinitely through ages, it may be hewn down in 
a moment, 


This sketch now draws to aconclusion. The nar- 
yator will, by some, be thought too ardent and enthu- 
siasticin favour of the memory of his friend. Let the 
reader, however, be assured, that his ardour, or his 
enthusiasm has never carried him beyond the bounds 
of strict truth. His zeal may, indeed, be somewhat 


warmed by his affection, and roused by the unmanly 


obloquy dealt by low minds against the memory of 
his friend, to the prejudice of his children. But this 
puny spite, this froth of faction, foams in vain. The 


solid adamant of Mr. Gordon’s character, his unspotted 


life, the inflexible. integrity of his nature, the pure 
bullion of his understanding, his solid unassuming 
learning, bid a firm defiance to all hostility.. While 
he lived, his masculine virtue proud in its conscious- 
ness: rushed to repel by open retort, those arrows which 
a cowardly malignity aimed at him, from secret am- 
bush. He scorned all such weapons: his character 
scorns them still ; and he often, from extreme sincerity, 
Jaid himself open to wily arts, which he could never 
practice. Never meditating fraud or wrong to any 


cli 4 SUMMARY 


man, he was above all fear, and transcending-the stoic, 
he settled in the christian philosopher. He aimed at 
serving the interests, shaming the vices, and promoting 
the social concord of his ‘countrymen and fellow-citi- 
zens; but he never stooped to flatter them, or to join in 
any of their factions; and never courted popularity in 
any shape or form—but please God, his children may 
see popularity accompany his memory—that popula- 
rity, which if on earth, he would value popularity 
with the good and wise. During his life, he engaged 
the respect and attention of some of the most exalted 
and venerable characters te whom he was known. 
Since his death, it appears in what estimation his me- 
‘mory is held by him, who must for every reason be — 
allowed to be the best and only appropriate judge of 
it. By the Right Rev. and Hon. Percy Jocelyn, D. D. 
Lord Bishop of Leighlin and Ferns, who, having had 
the best opportunities of knowledge, as his diocesan 
for many years, stamps with authoritative sanction, 
the true value on his character. His Lordship, with 
the grace and reanimating manner by which a man of 
his birth and station, so well knows how to confer an 
obligation, in promoting Mr. Gordon’s only son, the 
Rev. Richard Bentley Gordon, to a benefice, declares, 
. that he wishes to shew his respect for the memory of 
his father, as an author, and a gentleman of high con- 
sideration in his diocese.”—That the son will feel and 


ACCOUNT, &c. Chik 


manifest the like manly gratitude of his father on 
a similar occasion, there is good reason to hope. . He 
has already given proof, and promise of a steady 
determination in maintaining the rights of the 
Church, and promoting its interests, by a perseve- 
verance, not to be shaken by difficulties. But 
this judgment of the Bishop of Ferns, this gene- 
rous tribute to the memory of a scholar of inde- 
pendent mind, whose praise could never be gained 
but by goodness, and who never accepted a favour 
but where he thought goodness resided, reaches 
far beyond its immediate object. It evinces, in a 
manner impressive and conclusive, that the spirit of 
a scholar and a gentleman, should enter into and 
actuate the clerical character. Indeed, what other 
security can human institutions devise, to guard an 
established clergy against the degrading solicitations 
of sensual appetites.on the one hand, and the yet 
more pernicious illapses of spiritual pride and ig- 
norance on the other? But while the honours and 
rewards of religion and letters are held connected, 
as the Bishop of Ferns connects them, the establish- 
ment will be its own support against all the efforts 
of secret foes, or open enemies. It may naturally 
be expected, (it is indeed a prediction of the Author 
of our holy religion) from the number of willing 
dupes spread through society, that cunning hypo- 


- €1¥ A SUMMARY — 


erites should be found to descend on’ a prey so 
easy. . The disease, eens: is not radical or mor- 





the first stages of enquiry. It will. work. its own 
cure by its progress; or it can be arrested in its 
advances by the simple and salutary process of 
extending the establishment, with provisions and 
regulations adapted to the altered character of so- 
ciety. At all events,, while a spirit, such as the 
Bishop of Ferns fosters and acts on, shall predomi- 
nate in ecclesiastical concerns, the agents ef mischief, 
whether from malign intention, or sincere stupidity, 
can never again become formidable in these nations. 
The world has been awaked; and, religion, which 
was given to man, to brighten life, and to cheer 
society, is not now, as heretofore, regarded as a cold 
dogma of the brain, or as a series of words repeated 
by the lips, without influence on the moral habits of 
life; but as a full and salient fountain, from which 
all good conduct flows, indicating the. purity of the 
source by the streams that issue from it. .Butas the 
Biihop of Ferns so impressively inculcates, it belongs 
to learning to keep the fountain clear. No other 
earthly power is of sufficient force to dissipate the 
deadly vapours of fanaticism, and. the intoxicating 
fumes of enthusiasm, which have so strong a physical 
tendency to mix with and pollute its waters. 


PREFACE. 








Tue -Volume which is here presented to the 
Public, forms about a Twelfth part of the Memoirs 
Geographical and Historical of the entire Globe: of 
which, four parts or volumes, were published, up: to 
1798;—the remainder is left in manuscript, almost 
completed, by the author. The Editor has not se- 
lected this part for publication, on the ground of its 
being superior, or more complete in execution, than 
any of the remaining manuscripts : in fact, it is the 
only part of the work which is not completely finish- 
éd. It has been selected, because it appears sufficiently 
competent, and large enough for a volume; which is 
as much as can, at this time, be presented to public 
consideration. From the Royal protection and sup- 
port, which has been so most graciously bestowed 
upon this volume, it is hoped that the time is not far 
distant, when the entire work may appear, in an 
uniform dress. The Asiatic regions are those on which 
the author bestowed most pains, and which, from the 
great natural lines of distinction observable over their 

a 


ry} PREEACE. 


surface and population—the number of large islands 
and archipelagos, by which the Asiatic continent is 
encompassed—the deep interest which this empire has 
in their soil and commerce, and the various views 
which have been taken of them, from the earliest 
ages, requires the greatest’ ‘share of attention and 
pains in research and comparison. Mr. Gordon, it 
would seem, is therefore justifiable in treating of 
them so amply as he has done. Of Africa, not much 
is known, with the exception of Egypt, and the coasts, 
which are fully described in these manuscripts, as are 
also all the known parts of the interior, from a tho- 
rough examination and comparison of every authority — 
on the subject. 


Of the continent of South America, the informa- 
tion is vague and scanty: but, as much as can be had 
in substance any where, will be found in these ma- 
nuscripts.. Humboldt and Bompland have cast acute 
and scientific eyes over many of its regions. Their 
‘physical features, and distinguishing characteristics, 
are described in these manuscripts with a bold accu- 
racy. But what was accurate when they were writ- 
_ ten, has ceased to be so. , Physical and moral convul- 
sions are continually altering the features and cha- 
racter of this quarter of the globe: its political and 
physical geography will afford new matter for future 


PREFACE. bat 


writers. It is as yet (duly; 1819) not ‘easy, fo-divine 
the result of the auspicious ferment glowing through- 
out many of the districts of this great and beautiful 
division of the globe. It is indeed’ to be hoped that 
the expellers of tyranny, if ultimately suecessful, will 
never imitate its conduct in their institutions, or re- 
member its existence longer than it may be necessary 
‘to assert their own independence. That they will 
‘model their political constitution, and shape their 
public affairs conformably to the analogies of humah 
nature, and to those principles which, from the evi- 
‘dences of history, are. proved best to promote human > 
happiness. That they will never pursue’ chimerical 
‘theories, mere offsprings of the brain, having no 
foundation in the realities of life, and the pre-existing 
arrangement of society. That,they will for ever keep 
in mind, the great lessons which the present age of 
‘the European world so forcibly teaches, that’ the 
dogmas of philosophy ‘are as- obstinate and bloody, 
though of not so universal adoption, as those of reli- 
gion in its darkest ages. If, indeed, we should not 
say that the names—the sacred names of religion and 
philosophy, are only masks, which bad men put on 
to disguise wickedly ambitious aims, unholy and tem- 
poral purposes, and which trué religion abhors, and 
true aren gece off. 
| o 2 


qv PREFACE, 


‘The last volume of these Memoires may contain—_ 


aBiuvsiit. - |. Lewer Dalnatian Provinces, : 
Poland, Greece, 
Hungary, | Grecian Islands, 





Dalmatia, | Grecian Archipelago; 


Subjects.of great curiosity and interest, particularly 
that of Greece, which will be found to be the produc- ~ 
tion of a liberal and pains-taking scholar. 


. For the last few years, the question of a north-west 
passage through Baffin’s bay, to the Pacific ocean: has 
been received and agitated.. The Quarterly and Edin- 
burgh Reviews, two rival: journals, of the highest 
rank, sed magno intervallo, in public estimation, 
divide the suffrages on this occasion—Surely however 
a question of this nature should not be discussed with 
acrimony,,or sarcasm. Such is not the way to arrive 
at truth in any question of doubt, or difficulty, much 
less of one, of scientific and liberal curiosity, in which 
even still (July 1819) there is some uncertainty and 
room for doubt. . After all that has been said and writ- 
.ten on this subject, it may not be unacceptable, or 
unnecessary to quote the following passage from. Mr. 
Gordon’s Terraquea, or memoirs geographical and 
historical, vol. 1, page 9, edition 1790—speaking of 


PREFACE, ~ 


Baffin’s bay and the inlets connected with it, he says, 
‘‘ | have here considered this whole great inland sea, 
“or mediterranean of America, as a gulph; and 
«‘ must continue so to consider it, until it be found to 
“have some other communication with the ocean, 
“ beside, that which it is known to have with the 
‘“ Atlantic. That it has no channel westward to the 
* Pacific is evident from Cook’s last voyage, and 
‘© Hearn’s journey to the Coppermine river :* nor can 
‘ | find any probability of a passage to the northern 
‘‘ ocean, though Captain Cook seems to have believed 
* it. (Cook’s last voyage, book iv. chap. 11,) merely 
because he found people of the Esquimaux race in- 
* habiting the western, as well as the eastern coast 
sof North America. But this seems not only far 
“‘ from a-proof, but even from a reasonable presump- 
“ tion of such a passage, as it is well known, that 
“these people carry their light boats across the land 
*“ from one arm of the sea to another, and consequently 
“ might have traversed a great share of ‘continent, 
“ from one lake to another, and from inlet to inlet. 
“ Besides a strong argument lies against the supposi: 
“ tion, as the tides decrease, towards the north im 
‘‘ Baffin’s bay, (see Foster's Collection of, Northern 
“‘ discoveries.) So that in all probability Greenland 
‘* makes part of the American continent.” This con- 


* He would since have added, and M’Kenzie’s Journey—Kprror.. 


wt PREFACE. 


clusion drawn from the evidence of facts, and the ana- 
logy of nature, may approve his critical accumen, and 
knowledge of the subjects, who thus, by a period of 
twenty-nine years, anticipates the result of a research 
fora supposed north-western passage. His manner 
too, so like a real philosopher, zealous for the truth, 
but not puffed up,* by his zeal, or knowiedge, may 
be edifying to some of the litigants. It appears, that 
in this respect, his opinion was different, from that 
entertained by the writers in the Quarterly Review. 
He, however approved the eloquent ardour of their 
-investigation, and was fully satisfied, from incontro- 
-vertible facts of extensive operation, that of late years, 
‘such changes had taken place in the polar regions, 
as to fully justify the undertaking of the late expedi- 
tion. The editor too, would also infer from his know- 
ledge of Mr. Gordon’s sentiments on this subject, in 
several conversations within the last year, (1818) that 
“were he now alive, he would heartily concur in opi- 
‘nion, concerning the propriety not only of a renewed 
expedition to those regions, but of many similar ex- 
_ peditioris to various parts of the globe. That notonly . 
the surface of the earth and sea should be explored by 
- British enterprize; sed eundum in viscera terre.— 

He knew, although the principal object expected from 
such enterprizes should be disappointed, that many 


* See Edinburgh Review, No. 59, page 5.—Epiror. 


PREFACE: wee 


collateral advantages and acquisitions to human know- 
ledge would arise out of them, so as fully to compen- 
sate all trouble and expense attending them. Men 
and nations, he would say, often waste their resources: 
in illiberal, and even cruel pursuits. How then should 
it be counted folly or extravagance of the government 
of a great empire, resting in profound peace, with 
thousands of its citizens ardent, able and prepared, 
strong and accomplished in science and letters, to ex-’ 
tend its glory, and to maintain its interest in peace, 
as well as they have in war, to fit out ships for dis- 
covery, and to equip bodies of learned and scientific 
men. If the works of war be what chiefly should en- 
gage the consideration and attention of the govern- 
ment of a great empire, let it be recollected, that learn- 
ing and science have in all ages, been the best prepa- 
ratives for battle. The British empire stretches the 
influence of its sceptre over the world; and the ge- 
nius of it’s people, if called into action and properly 
supported, is well able to maintain its influence in 
the world. She has mind sufficient in her people to 
put the world in motion, to give ample employment 
to the utmost.exertions of her industry, if her talents 
be not suffered to droop and become paralized by in- 
action. Inthe bosom of peace, let Britons recollect, 
that the surrounding nations are jealous of her glory, 
envious of her prosperity, though fond of her influ- 


baat PREFACE. 


ence—an influence in its nature necessarily genial and 
protective. Her influence among the nations is, in- 
deed a moral quality widely different from the harsh 
- prerogative of arms. It behoves her therefore to set 
an example to the nations, of an animated cultivation 
of the arts of peace. By a public, liberal support of 
the experimental sciences, chemistry, metalurgy, naval 
expeditions, and companies of exploratory travellers. 
On such a plan of public encouragement to the united 
efforts and rivalship of scientific bodies—bodies, the 
most learned and scientific in the world—What new 
Congreves to invent machines—fatal machines of war, 
to prepare new fields of Leipsic—W hat new Davieses 
to advance the bounds of science, to stretch its foster- 
ing hand, to protect human life; and in the most 
hopeless circumstances, to turn even the destructive 

powers of nature to the aid and comfort of humanity. 


Long may the port of Britons, give the tone to 
mankind. The tone of British example, and: the 
strong persuasion of their reason, much more power- 
ful than arms, are spreading over those regions, here- 
tofore the cradles of freedom and letters, twin chil- 
dren, (though for many ages sunk in the oblivion of 
slavery) the reviving spirit of liberty and learning. 
Wherever Britons tread, they leave the vestiges of 
improvement, “and the plains of PTR, we may 


- 


PREFACE. ; tx 


now hope, will again become illustrious by the ex- 
ploits of heroes, awaked by the sons of Britain, re- 
echoing in their ears, those lessons, which their an- 
_cestors first inculcated to animate, and raise the slum- 
bering mind to its proper height in the scale of being. 
Let it be the praise, the peculiar praise of Britons 
however, to have softened the harsh features of Greek 
and Roman liberty, by all the mild graces of Christi- 
anity. Let the spirit of universal benevolence, which 
Christianity every where inculcates, supercede in all 
her institutions, and in the whole practice, as well as 
the spirit of her laws, the narrow selfishness, which 
for ever prevented the spread and lasting establish- 
ment of Grecian freedom; and which, even in its 
native seats, too quickly caused its downfall. 


As the author lived in expectation of being able to 
enrich this volume, with the result of the late Nor- 
thern expedition, he has left his survey of the Northern 
regions of North America, in form not quite com- 
plete. The editor however, has not presumed to add 
to, or alter a word in his manuscript; yet, he trusts, 
it will be found, that it is incomplete in form only, 
and not in substance. Indeed the expedition does 
not appear to have brought any material accession to 
the knowledge of geographical history. As to the 


CE 


Hi | PREFACE. 


tribe inhabiting the region extending from 76° to 77° 
40' north latitude, and from 60° to 72° west longi- 
tude; (see Ross's Baffin’s bay, 7th chap.) and de- 
corated with the picturesque appellation of Arctic 
Highlanders, they seem to be merely a variety of the 
Esquimaux race, as yet unaltered by foreign admix- 
ture. 


It is competent for any one to combat the propriety 
of any, or all of the opinions promulgated in the 
foregoing sketch and preface. It is not equally so, 
to combat the reality of the representation, that is 
made of them. No man knew Mr. Gordon so well 
and so long, as the editor of this volume; and Ke has 
to the extent of his power, drawn the picture of his 
mind, the outline of his intellect, with the same fide- 
lity and plainness of execution, that the limner has 
the miniature-likeness of his face prefixed to this 
volume. : 


July 27, 1839. 


THE FOLLOWING IS A 
UNPUBLISHED 


LIST OF MR. GORDON’S 





SOUTH AMERICA. 


PAGES. 
Terra Firma, o.sccccrvessesesveeee 29 
aia: dave asetneestevaidanan 30 
OI, dacucupSs oss ecsnssnesqamieuameal 30 
CARLA. vicina sunedannnal disssaulpunetsous 28 
Patagonia, sininie bscbiladebh (dab ohade 8 
Archipelago of ng degeceses A 

ASI 

Ainatolad) dedi. tite. . css RS » 96 
Anatolian Islands, cnkgai serach 14 
GEOAUEE,. ssn us cnagnannant Wi anidvns 32 
SYTIA,.cet00 cevcseeeeceees bd asenoenee 70 
ASSYT IA, veeseererseeverseees sie otebel 30 
ATMENIA,  vercorocserseeseres . 18 
Arabia, cossersere ivekuasieaniens ibs ‘.120- 
Persia, se aegtammaenes ape 
Flindostan, ....++.+ deeccgs ee 
Transgangene India, « owaas eakes 112 
PNDD EE) idccvcssdbci es lbepeveneiteves Al | 
Tartary, Cia a teach bonee 113 
Cocea, Weritt crt Cedusvekvebentes ue 4 
GI lsh iss i vkpiaccuwhs! dcsbcns 206 
FUME, Sac vasieecscessecsesscensevnes 102 
Ceylon, ..-cssseeees PAGO a PERC PWS 16 
Sremihle sian ccsic chin cecatauaess 138 
Java, and smaller Islands, ...... 29 
Borneo, Calebes, Molucca,...... 24 
West Sumatran Islands,...... jen. £4 


Sooloos and Manilla, .......0000. 

Lackdives, Maldives, Coco, An-- 
daman and Nicobars, .......0+¢ 

Mascarinas, eereeteeeseteereetoeesee 9 





MANUSCRIPTS, 
PAGES, 

AUSET GIGGLES cos cerstnatdievscssonass 13 
Tasmanian Kelme, dovidivids tis 16 
NE assess viscecgsniees<s4@ AZ 

BOE OGUED  cexeushn cases belghpi ins 13 

: AFRICA 

Egypt, See ee ser secencveces Hssb-.he SO 
BRA OAr Yo Vern os Gvnneres gahias dikes ed 
MS vos v ehakinsadegenah vaateTouce Is 
PNIRP IAN. Sickie deee. Soli iecess 70 
CHRO Ls cayess «0964 Soe <te05 Leanenes 19 
DS” BILE SERS OM LEER os io 
MUNA | coven thasetcecagsenoedores 18 
NEDA} >. did Bho ceth didtde +d a. 4% 
a) Bee ae a ee A8 
UMEOTOR?.|)s:sc0 > cacetiousoodudpinbeseehs 6 
Madetrad, Abii. Gd eete lh A 
COMET, sonis ii eceesy dss <Dereces oy kl 
MME FOTE s & nic soe cup sonenseses oes * 40 
FUOHESs soci sec cdeSausccetenwecncess 1 
Guinea Islands, ....cecccseevesse 4 


Samotheo, Assumption, St. He- 


lena, Tristem, D’ Aleunha, &c. 13 
EUROPE. 

RUS, . sos desPovdegatdersesesesccs OO 
Poland, .cccccoces BAL SANS isavdnsbes 26 
FIUngeary, ververssesessrees srerseseee SO 
Dalmatia, ....... is oVicctesscbee 26 
Lower Danubian provinces, ... 6 
CHER). ch isdaiG dae ve se vesespenves 84 


Grecian Islands, ...sceeesees 
Grecian Archipelago, sevsseos 16 


eae e 
eer a % x 
‘ Bibi 3 5 ee 


gaa SSS gs: 


a % 
RAS 








HIS@ORICAL AND GROGRAPHICAL 


MEMOIR, &c. 





— — 





+ 


CHAPTER I. 


MEXICO. 

Site—Coast—Contour— Mountains—Lakes— Rivers— 
Seasons—History—-Spanish Conquest—Vegetables— Ani- 
mals—Fossils—-Antiquities-— Commerce—— Government— 
Religion— Towns—Extent— Division—Population—Inha- 
bitants—Aboriginals—English Settiement. 


MEXICO, 


or New Spain, taken in a strictly geographical conception, 
without regard to those political divisions, which have un- 


dergone, and doubtless will undergo, a variety of alterations, — 


constitutes that extensive isthmus by which the two immense 

peninsulas of Northern and Southern America are connected. 

Thus, comprehending the small isthmus of Darien, it ex- 

tends, on the south, to the region of Terra Firma, or New 

Granada. For its Northern limit we must conceive a line 
A 


CHAPTER 
I 


Site, 


2 


MEXICO, 


cHAPTER drawn from the north-western angle of the Gulph of Mexico: 


I. 





Coast, 


to the southern part of the Vermilion sea. 


Washed on one side by the waves of the Atlantic, on the 
other by those of the Pacific ocean, throughout the entire 
length of its territory, Mexico possesses a prodigious extent 
of maritime coast, but is furnished with very few harbours, 
and seldom enjoys a safe navigation even to these. An im- 
mense body of water, incessantly propelled, by the trade winds 
from the east, into the Gulf of Mexico, drives great quantities 
of sand to the Mexican coast, which thus receives, insensibly, 
perpetual accretions, while these alluvians bar its rivers, and 


| ‘fill those inlets which might otherwise constitute receptacles. 


for shipping. Hence, within the vast Mexican Gulf, the 
eoast affords ne harbours, unless unsafe anchoring grounds 


-may improperly be so denominated, from the river Bravo 


in the north, to the Alvarado in the South. Beyond this, 
farther southward, the eastern coast presents: to the mariner 
the ports of Truxillo in the peninsula of Yucatan, and of 
Portobello in the isthmus of Darien; but the navigation. 
near these shores is mostly dangerous. from a stormy at- 
mosphere, ‘The western coast is furnished with a few har- 


- bours, as.Sanblas, Acapulco, and Rialexo. The-second is. 


a bason, one of the “finest in the world, seemingly formed. 
by the explosion of an earthquake. But along this.coast. 
also, though the ocean is generally deep to. the very edge 
of the shore, navigation is rendered unsafe by tempestuous 
weather, through the greater part of the year, especially in: 


the months of July and August, when. terrible hurricanes. 


blow from the south-west.. 


MEXICOs 


The contour of this country is altogether uncommon, 
perhaps even singular. 'The immense Cordillera, or chain 
of the Andes, which traverses longitudinally aljl South 
America, continues its course, with in general a north- 
westerly direction, but with a comparatively very small 
elevation, through the territories of Darien, Veragua, Ni- 
earagua, and Guatimala, into the main region, or broadest 
part of the vast Mexican isthmus. In the last named pro- 
vince the Cordillera begins to ascend toward its former atti- 
tude; but, in its further progress, instead of displaying 
the appearance of a mountainous ridge, it expands into a 
plain, or concatenation of plains, immensely long and 
wide, of what is called table-land, of prodigious elevation, 
which extends far beyond the limits of the Mexican isthmus, 
into North America. Here, instead of a chain of sum- 
mits, which in South America forms the crest of the Andes, 
the very ridge itself of the Cordillera constitutes the widely 
spread and lofty plain, on which the mountains of the 
country are so situated, whether in groups, or arranged in 
lines, as to bear no relation whatsoever to the direction of 
the main ridge, which stretches north-westward with the 
appearance of a vast level. The spine of this region, 
which, from the level aspect of the ssurface, -is impercep- 
tible to the eye, can only be siaeedly its forming a sepa- 
raiion between the waters which flow with opposite courses 
toward the two oceans. 


Besides the vast ceiitral plain, along which runs the spine 
of the Mexican isthmus, two lateral plains, in the northern 
parts, one on the eastern side, the other on the western, 


A 2 


ys 


3 


CHAPTER 
I. 





Contour, 


4 


CHAPTER 
I. 


4 


MEXICO, 


stretch far toward the north, formed in like. manner as the 
central, by the spreading of two lateral ridges, which 
branch from the main Cordillera about the northern latitude. 
of twenty-one degrees. The numerous and_ extensive 
plains of this extraordinary region, which form such. a 
concatenation as to seem only one immense level, except 
that they are often separated by chains of hills, are yet 
very different in altitude above the surface of the ocean. 
The elevation of the great central flats.is from about five 
thousand. six hundred to eight thousand eight hundred 
feet and upwards, equal to that of many of the great 
Italian Alps. The platform of the land maintains this 
height very far toward the north or north-west, with such 
gentle acclivities, where actual uneveness occurs, that. 
carriages may roll, with. a perfect ease, in that di- 
rection, to the distance of fifteen hundred miles from the 
city of Mexico, consequently a great way into North 
America. From the central plain to the two oceans the 
ground declines, but not in the same manner to both. In 
travelling from the central plain to the Atlantic, the land 
is found to preserve, through an extensive space, its great 
elevation ; but when a descent. commences, it. continues 
to be rapid through the whole way to the shore. The 
road. to the pacific ascends and. descends alternately, 
many times, before its termination in the sands of the 
coast. The great platform of the Mexican isthmus seems 
generally to consist of a concatenation of vast plains or 
vatlies, environed by hills, and resembling the beds of 
desicated lakes. One of these is the famous and beautiful 
valley of Tenochtitlan, elevated above seven thousand. four 


MEXICOe 


hundred feet above the ocean’s level, in form a long oval, 
sixty miles in diameter, environed by a wall of porphyritic 


and basaltic mountains, and containing the celebrated me-- 


tropolis of Mexico. Yucatan is a low peninsula, flat, 


except a chain of low hills, which divides it, running in. 


a south-westerly direction. 


The chain of the: Andes, in its course through Darien: 


and other provinces to Guatimala, is of a comparatively. 


smail, but as yet unmeasured elevation, abounding i in vol- 
canoes in an extraordinary manner, especially pun the 
eleventh, or at least the thirteenth degree of latitude 
northward. In Guatimala, where it reascends to consider- 
able altitude, its crest, jagged with volcanic cones, runs 


along the western coast, but afterwards advances through 


the central parts of the country, and at length approaches 
the Gulph of Mexico, when. the Cordillera, expanding into 
plains of table-land, ceases to exhibit any crest at all. On 
the immense platform of elevated land in: the north, the 
mountains are so scattered or grouped, as not to form. any 
chain, nor to bear any reference to the Cordillera, Of 
these numerous mountains the most elevated group, some 
of whose summits ascend into the region of perpetual 
snow, stands on the south-eastern side of the valley of 
Tenochtitlan, which it contributes, on that quarter, to in- 
close. The altitudes of four of the highest summits of 
this group, above the ocean’s level, have been measured. 
That of Popocatepetl is found to be seventeen thousand 
seven hundred and sixteen feet; that of Orizaba, seven-. 
teen thousand three hundred and seventy-one ; and that of 


5 


CHAPTER 
1, 





Mountains. 


§ 





jes ew 


Lakes. 


MEXICO. 


Iztaccihuatl, fifteen thousand seven hundred. These 
mottntains are volcanic, and two of them, Popocatepetl 
and Orizaba, are actually long flaming in the present age. 
Beside these, three other mountains were burning, in the 
northern parts of the Mexican isthmus, in the eighteenth and 
the beginning of the nineteenth century ; ‘Tuxtla in the 
province of Veracruz, Jorullo in that of Valladolid, and 
Colima in that of Guadalaxara. The Mexican volcanoes 
are ranged in a line from east to west. The numerous 
chains of hills, by which the extensive plains of the Table- 
land are commonly bounded or environed, hardly rise to the 
height of six hundred feet, or at most eight hundred, above 
the adjoining flats.* 


Those plains which are thus inclosed by chains of hills 
appear as if they had been in times far remote, vast lakes 
or basons of water, which has been exhausted, in a long 
series of ages, by evaporation, percolation through the po- 
rous earth at the bottom of the inclosing mounds, or drains 
through openings formed by the pressure of the fluid, by 
earthquakes, or by some other operations of nature. The 
water has not, however, been every where exhausted. 
‘Mexico still abounds in lakes, which appear to be in astate 
of gradual decrease, and to be the remains of ancient ba- 
sons prodigiously greater. To specify more than a few of 
these, which are generally of a similar kind, is unnecessary. 
The lake of Chapala, in the province of Guadalaxara, 


* For the contour and mountains see Humbold’s Essay on New Spain, 
8vo. London, 1811. The information may be collected from various parts, 
particularly, vol, 1, p. 24—79. 


MEXICO. 


7 


seems to be about sixty miles in length, and is accounted CHAPTER 
to occupy twice as great an area as that of the lake of ———— 


Constance on the borders of Switzerland. The lake of 
Pasquaro, in the province of Valladolid, is of much infe- 
rior, though considerable size, but is remarkable for its 
extremely picturesque appearance. Much inferior to many 
others in Area, but the most famous in history, are the 
lakes of the valley of Tenochtitlan, in the immediate vicinity 
of the Mexican metropolis. Of these, at present five in 


number, that which is much the greatest, named Tescuco, 


expanding toan area of about eighty square miles, is filled 
with salt water. They collectively occupy little more than 
the tenth of the valley, but were far more extensive when first 
seen by Europeans in the sixteenth century. Their decrease, 
beside natural causes, is partly aseribed to an artificial 
drain, a tunnel made through the bottom of the mountains 
on the eastern side, a work, which, from mismanagement, 
has cost, in a long course of operations, the sum of thirteen 
hundred thousand pounds, and the lives of several thousand 
Indians forced into the employment. Far the greatest of 
all the lakes of the Mexican isthmus is that of Nicaragua 
in the south, reported to be a hundred and seventy miles in: 
length, and about half so much broad. 


The vast lake of Nicaragua, by artificial canals, and 
rivers which flow in its vicinity to opposite coasts, might 
perhaps, if the ground were well examined, afford the 
best situation, any where in the Mexican isthmus, for the 
opening of a navigable communication between the two 
eceans. Projects for the forming of sucha navigation have 


Rivers, 


8 


tines toby 


Seasons. 


MEXICO, 


been several times conceived, but their practicability has 
no where, within the limits of Mexico, been as yet demon- 
strated. The rivers of this region, mostly small and in- 


navigable, are little favourable for the execution of such 


plans. In the southern parts, from the narrowness of the 
land, the streams are small; yet are comparatively very. wide 
at their mouths. In the northern, from the rapid descent 
of the country toward the shores, they are generally tor- 
rents. The only great river which flows through the Mexi- 
can soil, but which however belongs much more properly 
to North America, is the Bravo, called also Rio del Norte, 


_ which runs nearly through a length of fifteen hundred miles, 


from its source in the North American regions to its eflux 
into the Gulf of Mexico.. Of the rivers whose courses are 
confined within the limits of Mexico, the greatest, and 
doubtless one of the principal for the purpose of commerce, 
is the Santiago, which falls into the Pacific ocean. Of the 
rest among the chief are the Tula and Panuco, which dis- 
charge their waters by a united stream into the Gulf of 
Mexico, Among the smaller rivers in a more southerly si- 
tuation, which are conceived capable of utility for internal 
traffic, the Guasacualco and Alvarado are particularly 
noted, whose channels lie to the south-east of the maritime 


- town of Veracruz. 


From its tropical situation the temperature of. Mexico 
may naturally be expected to be extremely hot, which is 
actually the case in all the low parts of the country, as the 


. maritime tracts and the flat peninsula of Yucatan. In such 


i general, wherever the Jand is not elevated more than a 


MEXICO. 


thousand feet above the level of the ocean, the mean heat of 
the air, or the temperature calculated at a medium through- 
out the year, raises Fanenheit’s thermometer to about or 
near the seventy-seventh degree. But in the great northern 
portion of the isthmus, from the contour of this region, the 
temperature of the vast central plains is rather cold, or at 
least cool, than hot. Here the medial warmth is commonly 
from fifty-one to fifty-five degrees: but in the highest 
plains, as that of Toluca, the thermometer, during great 
part of the day, never rises higher than the forty-third or 
forty-sixth degree. Sometimes, but indeed rarely, it has 
sunk below the freezing point in the valley of Tenochtitlan, 
and snow has been seen there in the streets of the metropolis: 
but the elevation of the line of perpetual snow seems hardly 
less in this latitude than fifteen thousand ene hundred feet 
above the ocean. Between the coolness of the interior 
plains and the suffocating heat of the coasts, various inter- 
mediate degrees of temperature have place.’ All these 
variations may be experienced in one day, in descending 
on the rapid declivity of the eastern side to the shore at 
Veracruz. The whole ascent of the land, from the ocean 
to the highest plains, is conceived, in respect of tempera- 
ture, to be divided into three zones. The hottest zone, 
which is the lowest of the three, ascends very little above 
the elevation of three thousand nine hundred feet from the 
ocean's level. Hence to the height of four, thousand nine 
hundred feet extends the middle or temperate zone, where 
reigns a soft and perpetual spring, free from all severities 
of cold and heat, where the temperature is so equable 
as.not to vary more than about nine degrees of the ther- 
B 


9 


re a 


. 
me 


10 


CHAPTER 


MEXICOs 


mometer throughout the year, and where the medial heat 


———~. amounts to about sixty-eight or seventy. But, as no great 


advantage can be expected without some accompaniment 
of an opposite nature, the elevation of this tract is that te 
which the clouds ascend above the maritime plains : hence 
this otherwise charming region, more especially its lower 
parts; is frequently enveloped in hazes: or thick fogs, 
Concerning the third or highest zone, which comprehends 
the most elevated flats, to add any thing to that which I 
have already said seems quite unnecessary. 


The heat is found greater on the western than on the 


- eastern coast, and also more uniform throughout the year, 


except that an extraordinary coolness has been observed to 
prevail a few hours before sunrise. On the eastern the 
ardours are greatly allayed by winds: from the north-west, 
which blow frequently from: the autumnal to the vernal: 
equinox, with the most violence in Mareh, commonly with 
the least in September and October. Sometimes, but 
indeed rarely, tempests from the north are felt here even. 
in May, August, and the intermediate months, in what is 
accounted the favourable season, or that of the breezes, 
gentle gales from the south, which mostly prevail, with con- 
siderable regularity, from March to September. On the 
western coast what is called the fine season has place in a: 


different part of the year, from Oetober to-May: but even: 


then the tranquillity of the Pacific ocean is here interrupted 
by impetuous winds from about the north-east. Of the 
foul season in these tracts the months most dangerous to: 
navigators are July and August, when. terrible hurricanes 


MEXICO, 


ii 


plow from the south-west. Storms also from the same CHAPTER 


quarter accompanied with tremendous thunder and rain, 
render the eastern coasts of Nicaragua and the neighbour- 
ing parts inaccessible to shipping almost through the whole 


of yea and September. Thunder storms on these coasts — 


are indeed frequent during the greater part of the year, 
and in the hottést months are often tremendously violent. 
In general in the Mexican regions the wet season begins 
in June, and continues about feur months: but in the 
southern parts, where the land between the oceans is nar- 
row, and the mountains are adapted to the interception of 
the clouds, the rains are far from being confined within so 
small a portion of the year; nor are the times of rain and 
drought the same at once im the plains and mountains. In 
. the broad region of the north, where the high plains of the 
jnterior form the ridge of the cordillera, the showers are in- 
frequent im the table-land, whose naked surface attracts 
not the vapours, and thus is deteriorated by an encreasing 
deficiency of morsture, while the low maritime tracts are 
copiously watered fram June to September inclusively. 
The showers commence later on the western coast than on 
the eastern, but continue longer, In the elevated plains 
the air is salubrious, but on the coasts it is quite otherwise, 
especially in the hottest months: yet at least in some of 
4he maritime tracts, as at the British settlement in Yucatan, 
it is found far less unwholesome than in the West Indian 
islands.* 


* Humboldt,-vol. 1, p. 65—87 ; vol. 2, p, 250-—252 ; vol. 4, p. 148— 
260. Henderson’s Account of Honduras, London, 1809, p. 9—11. 
B2 


12 


CHAPTER 





History. 


MEXICO. | 


_ Previous to an account of the products of the Mexican 
soil, which vary with the temperature, but of which many 
new species have been added to the old since the conquest 
of the country by the Spaniards, a sketch of the history of 
this vast region may not perhaps improperly have place. 
Like every other part of the New world, or American he- 


_ misphere, the existence of Mexico was totally unknown to 


the inhabitants of Europe and of all the other regions of 
the Ancient world, till its discovery by the Spaniards, who 
first, under Columbus, visited the coast of Darien in the 
year 1502, that of Yucatan, under Hernandez Cordova, 
in 1517, and that of Veracruz, and of the territories extend- 
ing thence northward, in the following year, under Juan 
de Grijalva. The discoverers, in the two latter expeditions, 
more especially Grijalva and his associates, who had hi- 


therto beheld no natives of the American hemisphere in a 


condition of society much raised above the state of nature, 
were astonished when they found a numerous population 
well clothed in cotton, considerably civilized, and forming 
the subjects of a great empire, in which a very regular 
system of government, both civil and religious, had been 
fully established. This was the great kingdom of Tenoch- 
titlan or Mexico, of whose foundation and subsequent ag- 
grandizement a history is pretended to be given from Mexi- 
can records, penciled in a kind of painted hieroglyphics, 
by which events and their dates were attempted to be trans- 
mitted to posterity. I must own that a history derived 
from such a source appears to me considerably dubious, 
notwithstanding all arguments adduced in its favour ; ‘yet 


MEXICO: «| 


not to take. some slight notice of it might not be regarded 
as altogether excusable.* 


According to the interpretations given to us of these 


paintings, several tribes or nations, migrating ‘southward 


from some regions unknown, successively settled in Ana-- 


huac, by which name is understood to be signified all the 
land of the Mexican isthmus between the fourteenth and 
twenty-first degrees of northern latitude. The first were 


the Toultecs, who arrived about the year 648 of the chris- ’ 
tian era, a people somewhat advanced in civilization, who — 


cullivated .maize and cotton, built, cities, formed public 


roads, erected great pyramids, the remains of which are still : 
admired, used hieroglyphic paintings, and measured their 


time by a solar year less imperfect than that of the Greeks 


or Romans. The Chichimecs made their appearance in > 


1170, the Nahualtecs in 1178, the Acolhues and the Aztecs 


in 1196... The last, who have since been called Mexicans, ' 


by the people of Europe, are said to have long remained in 
a state of comparative weakness, to have founded the city 
of Tenochtitan, in the valley of that name, in the “year 
1325, and to have at length gained an ascendancy, and 
finally, a dominion over the neighbouring tribes. From 
Mexitli, the appellation of their god of war, to whom their 
chief temple was dedicated, their Metropolis and whole 
empire were called Mexico by the Spaniards. Their go- 


vernment, whatever may have been its original form, ’ 
became ultimately a monarchy, where nine kings are re-- 


* See Clavigero’s History of Mexico. 


13 


CHAPTER 
I. 





caapTEer -corded as reigning in succession, of whom the ninth, Mon- 
——+——- tezuma the Second, was on the throne when Europeans first 


visited this country. 


Indeed, from existing circumstances, various races of 
men appear to have successively taken their abode in the— 
ereat Mexican isthmus, Above twenty languages, as dif- 
ferent from one another as-any two languages of Europe, 
are spoken in this country. Of not less than fourteen of 
these have grammars and dictionaries been written. But 
the signal predominance of the Aztec tongue, which is 
spoken from the lake of Nicaragua through an extent of 


eleven or twelve hundred miles northward, seems a strong 


argument in favour of a far more early origin, or far longer 
-duration,:of the Aztec empire than is assigned to it by its 
pretended history. ‘The account, however, given in that 
history, that this and other tribes of invaders had come from 
countries of a northwesterly situation, is highly probable, 
‘Since we find that these had fixed their habitations in the 
elevated plains, where a cool temperature prevails, similar 
tothat ef more northern regions, in preference to the low 
maritime tracts, where the soil is more fertile, but the heat 
much greater. From what countries they came we have 


' no ground to determine. The general conjecture is, that 


they ‘were originally emigrants:from the northern parts of 
Asia, As their posterity, when first known to Europe, 
were unacquainted with any other grain than maize, and - 


‘Were quite ignorant of the use of milk and beasts of bur- 


-den, they could not have migrated from any country into 
which the agriculture, or eyen pasturage, of Asiatic people 
had beset introduced. 


MEXICO. 


15 


Beside the great kingdom ‘of Mexico, thus denominated CHAPTER 


from its metropolis, several independent tribes and states 


were found by the Spanish discoverers subsisting in this 
vast isthmus. In the north were the savage clans of hunters, 


called Otomites and Cicimecs. Among states composed of | 


people comparatively civilized, seated more toward the 
south, and bordering the Aztec empire on the eastern and 


western sides, were the kingdom of Mechoacan and the - 


_ republic of Tlascala. 'The territory of the latter was only 
sixty miles distant from the Mexican capital. The chiefs 
of Yucatan, the savage tribes of Honduras and of the more 
narrow tracts in the south, were exempt from the dominion 
of the Aztec monarchs. This. dominion appears to have 
been confined, at the time of the Spanish discovery, within 
a space of six hundred miles in length and about one 
hundred and forty broad, containing perhaps an era nearly 
equal to that of the island of Great Britain. What may 
have been its population ean only be conjectured. This 
doubtless was more dense about the seat of government, 
particularly the valley of Tenotichlan, than at present, but 
may have elsewhere been more thin. The monarch of this 
realm appears to have been absolute, but the nobility 
under him to have been visited with the same pernicious 


powers of the fuedal description as the nobles of the ill-go- _ 


verned kingdoms of Europe, by which the lower orders 


were miserably oppressed.. The political system had been ~ 


carried to such a pitch of improvement, as in one institution 
to surpass the best regulated at that time of European states, 
the institution of couriers, stationed at proper intervals, to 
convey intelligence with rapidity, to and from the court, 
to all parts of the empire. . 


~ 


16 


3 CHAPTER 





“MEXICO. 


The people of this kingdom, and of some of the adjoin- 
ing states, had made considerable advances in civilization. 
As they were destitute of beasts of burden, their agricul- 
ture indeed could not be so extensive as where such are in 
use; but where no deduction is made from the products of 
the soil for the food of cattle, a greater number of the 
human species may be maintained in a given space. Where 


the cities are large and numerous, and the right of private 


property, the distinction of ranks, ‘and the division of 
trades or professions, were fully established, much progress 
in their state of society must be admitted. As they were 
unacquainted with the use of iron for the fabrication of 
sharp instruments, their attainments in the mechanic 
arts were much slower than they might have otherwise 
been ;. yet they had found the mode of hardening copper, 


by an admixture of tin, to such a degree as thence to form 


axes and other instruments almost as sharp as those of steel, 
like the brazen weapons of the ancient Greeks in the time 
of the Trojan war. . “ Tin being a metal very little spread 
over the globe, it is rather surprising that it should have 
been used in both continents in the hardening of copper.’’* 
They also made knives and other edge tools, of the volca- 
nic substance called obsidian, which was a principal object - 
of their mining industry. 


In the fine arts, such as painting, the advancement of 
the Mexicans, though much admired by the Spaniards of 


the sixteenth century, fell greatly short of that of the 


European artists; nor, in literature, had their attainments 


‘ i 


Humboldt, vol. 3, p. 116, 


MEXICO, 


reached so far as’ the invention of an alphabet, though 
toward it they had made some progress, in’ painted repre- 
sentations, hieroglyphies, and numeral figures. They had 
by some means: acquired such an acquaintance with astro- 
nomy, as, by intercalations and cycles, to calculate the 
year to a degree more nearly approaching to exactness than 


the ancient nations of the old continent... Their ordinary, 


year contained three hundred and sixty-five days, of which 
five were intercalary, the rest distributed into eghteen 
equal months. They had a cycle of thirteen years, a period 
of fifty-two, and an age of a hundred and four. They had 
not improved so far in commercial transactions as.to con- 
vert the precious metals into money; but had used, as a 
medium of exchange, or as the representative signs of the 
value of things, gold dust contained in transparent quills of 
aquatic birds, small pieces of copper of a certain shape, thin 
bits of tin, small bales of cotton cloth, and the almonds of 
the cocoa fruit or chocolate nut. The last are in use even at 
this day where very small change is required. The gloomy 
complexion of the paganism of the Mexicans, who sacrificed 
human victims to monstrous idols, is not more an argument 
against the civilization of this people, than against that of 
the Pheenicians and Carthaginians, the great commercial 
nations of antiquity: “ for nations, long after their ideas 
begin to enlarge, and their manners to refine, adhere to 
systems of superstition, founded on the rude conceptions of 
early ages.”* A dismal superstition, however, which re- 
quired the shedding of human blood on the altars of idola- 


* Robertsons’s History of America, 


Cc 


17 


CHAPTER 
[. 


18 


CHAPTER 
, I. 





Spanish 
Conqnest,. 


MEXICO. 


try, seems to have been carried among the Mexicans to an 
extreme no where exceeded, 


¢ 


~ ¥f, on the diseovery of this country by the Spaniards, a 

commercial intercourse had been established on equal terms 
of reciprocal benefit, the Mexicans, by the introduction of 
the European arts and literature, might have rapidly ad- 

vanced in civilization, and become, in course of time, a 
great and wealthy people: but the sole object of the Spa- 
nish court, in sending ships to America, was eonquest ; 
and that of the adventurers was the acqusition of riches by 
the speediest means possible, how nefarious soever. That 
some formality should be used in the seizure of discovered. 
countries, instructions in writing were given to the adven- 
turers, in which they were authorised to require the natives 
to submit themselves as subjects to the king of Spain, in 
consequence of a donation of their persons and territories 
to that monarch by the Pope, and to embrace the Roman 
Catholic system of christianity, instead of the heathenish 
rites which they had practised before. In case of noncom- 
pliance, which yet might naturally be expected, where the 
requisitions must appear incomprehensible to the people to 
whom they were addressed, the adventurers were commis- 

sioned to waste the land by sword and fire, and to reduce to 


slavery the remnant of the inhabitants. For the conquest 


of Mexico, Valasques, governor of Cuba, committed an 
armament to the conduct of Fernando Cortes, a man of 
most audacious ambition, intrepid courage, and power- 
ful talents; but so destitute of all principles of honesty, 


MEXICO. 


19 


honour, and humanity, as to deserve truly the title of a CHAPTER 


consummate villain. 


Having by intrigues drawn his men to consent, Cortes 


assumed an independent command, disclaiming the juris- — 


diction of Valasquez, who had expended much of his pri- 
vate fortune on the equipment of the expedition. With a 
band of six hundred soldiers and seamen, he landed at a 


place called Sanjuan de Ullua by the Spaniards, in the be- 


ginning of April, im the year 1519, at the distance of 


about a hundred and eighty miles from the Mexican metro-' 


polis. His artillery consisted of ten field pieces, and his 
cavalry of eleven horsemen. The astonishment of the 
natives was extreitie at the display of European arms and 
tactics, made designedly in their presence, but chiefly at 
the explosion of the cannons, and the rapid course of the 


horses, animals of whose existence they had been so igno- 


rant, that they regarded the horse and the rider as com- 
posing one creature. Cortes professed the most friendly 
intentions, declaring himself to be the ambassador of the 
great emperor of the east, charged with despatches of a 
nature highly beneficial to the Mexican king, and of such 


importance, that he could not communicate them to any 


other person than the monarch himself, to the presence of 
whom he demanded admittance. Montezuma the Second, 
the then reigning sovereign, having attempted in vain to 
purchase the departure of these formidable strangers by mag- 
uificent presents, which tended only to inflame their desire 
of seizing the plunder of a country containing so much 
riches, transmitted at length peremptory orders that they 


c 2 


1519—=1522 


\ 


20 


’ 


MEXICO. 


‘cHaprrr should retire immediately out of his dominions. As Cortes 





positively refused to reimbark, and insisted on admission to 
the royal presence, matters came at once to such a crisis as 
required a perfectly decided. conduct in the Mexican .mo- 
narch. He. ought to have assembled a numerous army, 
which might either have overwhelmed. this handful of in- 
vaders, or at least have starved them into a_ departure by 
precluding all supplies. 


\ 


Whether it arose from a defect. in his character, which 


*- indeed appears to ne to be the case, or from causes not 


satisfactorily explained, the indecision of Montezuma, who 
only interdicted his subjects from intercourse with the stran- 
gers, was fatal to himself and his kingdom. By being per- 


- mitted to. remain. unblockaded on the coast, Cortes found 
means to discover dissatisfaction in certain members of the 


empire toward its head, and to form alliances with these 
against their native sovereign. - Reinforced by the troops of 
these allies, and justly presuming, from the particular in- 


stances which had already.occurred, on extensive disaffection 
-in other provinces, Cortes commenced his. march from the 


coast into the interior in the August of the same year. He 
requested permission to pass through the territories of the 
Tlascalan republic to the city of Mexico; but this was re- 
fused by the council of state, as his designs were suspected, 
since he had professed himself a friendly ambassador to 
Montezuma, to whom they were enemies inveterately im- 
placable. After some desperate conflicts, in which the Tlas- 
calans, from the vast inferiority of their arms, and from ab- 
surd practices the result of superstition, were repulsed with 


MEXICO. 


great slaughter, the chiefs of the commonwealth agreed to 
a treaty of peace and alliance. A very debilitating circum- 
stance in their military system was their regarding the car- 
rying away of the dead and wounded of their party as a 
point of honour, in like manner as the Greek in early ages, 


as described by Homer. ‘ Attention to this pious office occu- 
pied them even during the heat of combat, broke their union, © 
and diminished the force of the impression which they might. 


have made by a joint effort.” Also, from some erroneous 
idea, instead of taking every possible advantage in their 
attacks, they sent previous notice to the Spaniards of their 
intended hostilities ; and, instead of endeavouring to starve 
their invaders by the prevention of supplies, they even took 
much pains to furnish them with food, . 


With a reinforcement of six thousand Tiascalans, Cortes 
proceeded on his march, in which, from the fatal irresolu- 
tion of the infatuated Montezuma, he met with no impedi- 
ment. He was even accommodated with quarters, by com- 
mand of that monarch, at the city of Cholula, where the 
Spanish commander, apprehending, or pretending to appre- 
hend, a conspiracy against him, seized the principal men, 
and made a frightful massacre of the citizens. His object 
was. probably to strike terror, and this he appears to have 
effected. He thence advanced at the end of October, di- 
rectly to the Mexican capital, where he was received in a 
most friendly manner by Montezuma, who assigned him for 


his residence a palace, with buildings and courts sufficiently — 


spacious to afford commodious lodging to all the Spaniards 
and their auxiliaries, For the amazing irresolution of the 


ai 


CHAPTER 
t. 





22 


MEXICO, 


cnaprer Mexican king, and his finally amicable admission of the 
———._ invaders, iasdaitipiiled byan army of his most inveterate ene- 


mies, into his capital, we can on no other grounds pretend to | 
account than, beside some defect in his personal character, 
on a superstitious dread of the Spaniards, as being of a supe- 
rior kind, the object of whose coming was perplexingly mys- 
terious. Cortes, who had availed himself of all advantages 
derivable from the ignorance and superstition of the devoted 
prince and people, and who, in confidence of ultimate suc- 
cess, had burned his ships, to preclude, without victory all 
hopes of return to his soldiers, now put in execution ci 


scheme which, as appears from his own letters, he had me- 


ditated from the beginning. Admitted to’a friendly au- 
dience with Montezuma, he seized his person, and carried 
him prisoner to the Spanish quarters. The want of magna- 
nimity in this monarch, who ought rather to have submitted 
at once to ‘the stroke of death than te betray to a foreign 
foe the dignity of his crown and the safety of his people, 
favoured highly the views of the insidious European. To 
appease the citizens, who were rising in a tumult, he de- 
clared to them from the battlements of the Spanish quarters, 
that his removal thither was altogether his own voluntary 


act for the spending ofa short time with his new friend ; 
_and, to satisfy Cortes, he even commanded a Mexican gene- 


ral, with several officers, who had made an attack on the: 
revalted clans on the coast, in which some Spaniards were 
slain, to be delivered into the hands of the foreigners. On 
a pile formed of Mexican weapons, taken from the royal ma- 


_ gazine-in the metropolis, was this general, together with 


his son and five of his chief officers, burned alive for having 


MEXICOs 


obeyed the command of their sovereign, who thus basely 
surrendered them to his perfidious enemies. 


From the profound veneration of the Mexicans for their 
sovereign, and their consequent implicit obedience to all his 
orders, Cortes, who had rendered himself master of his 
person, governed, during several months, the whole king- 
dom in his name, as the usual system of administration was 
continued, but all mandates were dictated by the Spanish 


23 


‘ CHAPTER 
t. 


1520. 


leader. He even forced the captive monarch, and his nobles 


through his influence, to the acknowledgement of subjec- 
tion, and the payment of a tribute, to the crown of Spain : 
but, when he insisted on the abolition of the pagan modes 
of worship, and the adoption of the Roman Catholic, he 
found so inflexible a determination of refusal in both prince 
and people, that prudence obliged him, for the present, to 
desist. ‘The discontent, excited by this attempt, was some- 
time after enflamed to fury by a most atrocious act of vio- 
lence. Obliged to march toward the coast to oppose Nar- 
vaez, whom Velasquez had sent with a body of troops to 
deprive him of his command, Cortes left the custody of the 
captive monarch to Alvarado with a hundred and fifty Spa- 
niards. In order to exterminate, as is pretended, the au- 
thors of a conspiracy alledged to subsist among the Mexi- 
cans, or allured by the spoil of the precious ornaments 


worn on the occasion, Avarado took advantage of a solemn_ 


festival, when the principal persons of the kingdom were 
celebrating religious rites in the court of the great temple. 
Having secretly taken possession of all the avenues, he sent 
into the court a body of soldiers, who massacred all, except 


9A 


CHA BEES 


See 


MEXICO, 


afew who escaped by climbing over the battlements of the 
enclosure. Aroused by this fiction: treacherv, the Mexi- 
cans laid aside their dread of European arms, aid furiously 
assailed the Spanish quarters, which had been strongly for- 
tified. 'The small garrison would doubtless have been soon 
overwhelmed, if Cortes had not returned opportuncly to its 

relief. That commander, by intrigues of his emissaries 
among the soldiers of Narvaez, had so succeeded as to take 
him prisoner, and to draw his troops to his own standard. 
With an army now augmented to the number of a thousand 
Spaniards, beside an additional body of two thousand Tlas- 


calans, Cortes re-entered the. Mexican metropolis in the 
June of the year 1520, 


‘Though the Mexicans, from W want of conduct in. their 
leaders, permitted the enemy, without opposition, to re- ~ 
establish himself, with a much greater force than before, in 


‘his fortified post, they resumed their arms with renovated 


fury, when, by certain expressions betrayed by the Spa- 
niards, now elated by success, they discovered, that the 
object of these foreigners, from their first arrival, was the 
conquest and pillage of the country. Nothing ever sur- 
passed the ardent and persevering courage displayed in their 
assaults. "The place of those who fell by the artillery and 
other arms of the foe, was instantly filled by fresh battalions 
which rushed successively to the combat. To cajole the 
multitude anew, Montezuma, in the utmost pomp of royal 
robes, was procured to appear on the battlements, and to 
use all possible arguments to prevail on his subjects to sub- 
mit, At the sight of their sovereign a dead silence ensued ; 


MEXICO. 


but at the end of his oration, which proved. him to be an 


instrument in the hands of: their most insidious and cruel 
enemies, a hollow murmur prevailed, and the assault was 
renewed. Before the Spanish soldiers could cover him with 
their shields, he received two arrows anda blow of a 
stone. ‘The wounds were not mortal, but he perceived, 
too late for the safety of his people, that life im his circum- 
stances was unworthy of preservation, Rejecting all medi- 
eal assistance and food, he expired in a few daysafter. A 
‘retreat was found to be quite necessary by Cortes. This he 
made in the night along one of the causeways, by which 
the city of Mexico, then environed by water, communicated 
with the surrounding country. But’ he was assailed with 
such fury, that beside all his artillery and baggage, he lost 
at least six himdred Spaniards, and two thousand Tlasca- 
lans. He was afterwards intercepted by a Mexican army, 
by which his remaining force’ would have doubtless been 
annihilated, if he had not availed himself of a superstitious 
idea, which he knew to prevail among this unfortunate 
people. By an impetuous onset, at the head of a chosen 
band, he seized the royal standard, at the disappearance of 
which the whole army dispersed without any other cause. 


Having thus effected his retreat to Tlascala, Cortes, after 
six months of strenuous exertion, in collecting reinforce- 
ments, and making other preparations, advanced against 
the Mexican gapital in the January of 1521, at the head of 
five hundred and fifty foot soldiers, forty horsemen, and ten 
thousand Tlascalans, with other natives. He was after- 
wards joined by such additional multitudes of the deluded 

D 


25 


CHAPTER 
I, 


1521, 


26 


QUARTERS 





MEXICO, 


inhabitants, that himself, in his letters, has rated the whole 
at the incredible number of a hundred and fifty thousand. 
With these, and some fresh reinforcements of Europeans, ° 
after various preparatory operations in its neighbourhood, 
he laid siege tothe city of Mexico at the end of April. The 
Mexicans, under the command of Guatimozin, whom they 
had raised to the throne, an heroic prince, the nephew of 
Montezuma, made a most admirably brave defeuce against 
the foreign foe, and those infatuated multitudes of their 
compatriots, who ought to have been their associates in 
arms instead of their antagonists: but against the vast su- 

periority of European arts, aided by such hosts, all was un- 
availing. The besiegers, by a fleet of brigantines, built in 
the country, furnished with cannons, became masters of the 
Jake in which the city stood. - The besieged were consumed 
by famine and consequent pestilence, ond by the infection 
of the small pox, imported to them from Europe, where it 


‘had not been until lately known. Yet they resisted the per- 
- petually reiterated assaults of the foe with the most intrepid 


fierceness, disputing every inch of ground with such obsti- 
nate fury, that three-fourths of the city were destroyed, in 


_ successive conflicts. At length Guatimozin was taken pri- 


soner, and the assailants remained undisputed victors, on 
the thirteenth of August, after a siege of seventy-five cays 


almost every one of which was a day of battle. 


Conducted to the presence of Cortes, Guatimozin said, 
«| have done what became a monarch: J have defended 
my people to the last extremity. Nothing now remains but 
todie. Take this dagger,” laying his hand on one which 


MEXICO, 


27 


the Spaniard carried, “ plant it in my breast, and put a pe- cHAPTER 


riod to a life which can be no longer useful.” With the 
magnanimity of the conquered prince may be contrasted 
the baseness of his conqueror. Cortes, who appears to 
have clandestinely appropriated to his own use great part of 
the treasures of Montezuma and Guatimozin, to the de- 
frauding of his followers, to whom had been promised a 
proportion of the spoil, put to the torture the royal captive 
and the chief favourite of that monarch, to make them 
confess where the unproduced riches lay concealed. This 


flagitious aet was committed either from a suspicion that 


some wealth still remained undiscovered, or rather, at least 
partly, with a design to deceive his soldiers with respect to 
the riches which himself had secreted. The mode of tor- 
ture was this: . the soles of the feet were soaked in oil, and 


then gradually burned. When the favourite, overcome by | 
the exquisite pain, betrayed a sense of his sufferings, the_ 


monarch, with an indignant look, reproved his weakness by 
asking him, “ Am I now reposing on a bed of roses?” Over- 
awed by this reproof, the favourite became dumb, and at 
length expired in agony. Guatimozin survived the torture, 
but was destined to sustain a series of new indignities, and a 
cruel death. Under a pretence, without a shadow of proof, 
that he was conspiring with his former subjects against the 
Spanish power, he was,’ in the following year, hanged, to- 
gether with the two persons next him in rank, the princes of 
Tezcuco and Tacuba. They were suspended from the same 
tree by their feet, with their heads hanging down, a posture 
eaiculated for the prolongation of anguish. Even the ruf- 


fian soldiers of Cortes, long inured to the perpetration of 
d2 


1522. 





28 


CHAPTER 


~ 


. MEXICOs 
crimes, murmured against this atrocious act, which doubt- 


less they regarded as a wanton display of cruelty, an act of. 
injustice without profit thence acquirable. 


- Wherever in ‘the provinces, through which detachments - 
of the Spaniards, suecessively reinforced, were sent in alk 
directions, the least appearance of resistance had place; a 


horrid slaughter of the inhabitants was committed, and all 


the chiefs, who were taken alive, were doomed to cruel 


‘deaths. Thus, in the province of Panuco, were four hun- 


dred and sixty nobles, of whom sixty were of the first 
rank, burned alive at once, in the presence of their children. 
and other relatives, who were compelled to be witnesses of | 
the agonizing scene. By these ferocious conquerors were 
all the higher orders, the nobles, and gentry, and ministers 
of religion, among whom is maintained the civilization of 
a people, completely exterminated. The last were the de- 
positories of the literature of the nation, which thus perished 
with them. Not content with’this, the Spanish monks, in 
general a most malevolent species of beings, actuated by a 
superstitious zeal, the result of bigotry and ignorance, de- 
stroyed all the Mexican records on which they could lay 
hold, conceiving them as connected with paganism, inso- 
much that only some fragments: escaped their spiritual 
fury. Those people who survived this sanguinary conquest, 
consisting of the lower classes, the vulgar of the nation, 


_ were reduced to a most abject state of slavery, in the hard- 


ships of which great numbers were soon consumed. Cortes, 
however, the instrument of this national destruction, was 
not long permitted to possess the full fruits of his laborious 


MEXICO, 


29 


crimes. The court of Spain thought proper to consign CHAPTER 
5 I. 


the management of the revenue and the civil government 
io other persons, by whom he was controled in a mortify- 
ing manner, and atlength, in 1530, it committed to a vice- 
roy the administration of all the conquered country, which 
received the denomination of New Spain, a denomination 
given at first by its discoverers to the peninsula of Yucatan 


only.” Cortes spent the last seven years of his life in Eu- 
rope, contemned and even insulted by the Spanish court, 


while he vainly solicited his sovereign for the restoration of 
his authority, and expired m the year 1547, in the sixty- 


second year of his age. The history of Mexico, which 


continued thence forward, under the domiuion, of the crown 
of Spain, contains. hardly any events which can interest a 


European reader, until its revolution in the nineteenth 
f 


century. 
% 


Political revolutions in Mexico are followed by no small 


innovations in its vegetable products. From its conquest 
has resulted the introduction of many species from the Old 
continent ; and its exemption from the oppressions of Eu- 
ropean government must remove those discouragements 
which the absurd policy. of the Spanish court has imposed 
upon the culture of some of the most valuable. From the 
vast variety in the elevations and aspects of the land, which. 


gives a correspondent variety. of temperature, in all. degrees - 


from the fervours of the torrid zone to the coolness of re- 


gions approaching the frigid, the plants and trees of almost 
all climates are easily propagated in the Mexican soil. Yet 


from the want of that vigorous heat, which operates during 





Vegetables.. 


30 


CHA Hi ER 





MEXICO. 


a short time in the short summer of countries placed much 
farther from the equator than the poles, several vegetables, 
which thrive in these countries, attain not perfection in those 
elevated plains of Mexico, where the heat, though greater 
on the whole amount in the course of the year, is not, from 
its equability in the torrid zone, sufficiently powerful at any 


one season. The only kind of grain found cultivated in 


Mexico by its discoverers was maize} which was indigénous 

to America, whence it has been received by the Old conti- 
nent, where it was unknown till after the discovery of the 

New. This grain, which is still the most extensively culti- 
vated, as it flourishes both in the hot lowlands and. in 
plains of nine thousand feet in elevation, is here so luxuriant, ' 
as to grow to the height of from six to nine feet, and often to 

yield four hundred fold of the seed.  “‘ It is believed that. 
we may estimate the produce of maize in general in the 

equinoxial region of the kingdom of New Spain at a hun- 

dred and fifty for one.’”’* » 


Of the species of corn communicated from the old con- 
tinent, such as rice, wheat, barley; and rye, the first, 
which is best adapted to the low, moist, and sultry tracts 
along the coasts, has not become as yet, though it may pro- 
bably hereafter be, much an object of agricultural industry. 
The three latter, with other kinds mi grain common in 
Europe, flourish only in those parts which enjoy a mild 
temperature, between the hot regions near the ocean on 
one side, and those plains on the other which are cold from 


* Humboldt, chap. 9. 


MEXICO. 


excessive height. In ascending from the coast to the cen- CHAPTER 
tral table-land the commencement of their culture is not —— 
often found at a less elevation than three or four thousand > 


feet. The barley and rye, more especially the former, are 
cultivated on plains of greater height, or of less warm tem- 
perature, than the wheat. The last is of excellent quality, 
and so exuberant as often to produce fifty fold or more, 
and very seldom so little as sixteen. The quantity of its 
produce depends in great measure on artificial irrigation, 


-as the interior of this country is ill supplied with rain. This - 


irrigation, and the consequent production of corn and 
other esculents, might be vastly extended if the country 
were populous. Where human industry supplies not the 
requisite moisture the: fields produce only pasturage; and 
even that entirely fails in the dry season, from about the 
beginning of March or April till the rains begin. to fall 
about the estival solstice: The most elevated plains in the 
central parts yicld hardly even pasturage, but are bare, 
arid, and saline, like the tracts called steppes in the im- 
mense regions of Tartary. 


These bare and saline tracts however, though occupying 


extensive spaces, bear no great proportion to the whole of 
this fine country, “a great part of which belongs to the - 


most fertile regions of the earth,”* Among the esculents is 
the banana, indigenous to Mexico, indigenous also to tro- 
pical Asia, whence some species of this vegetable, some- 


what different from the American, have been transplanted | 


* Humboldt, chap. 3. 


31 


52 


daa’ £@e4e 





MEXICO, 
to the New world. The regions adapted to its successful 
culture are those where the mean temperature of the year 
is measured by the seventy-fifth degree of Fahremheit’s 
thermometer. In the Mexican soil, in such hot situations, 
jt bears ripe fruit of from six to eleven inches in length, in 
the tenth or eleventh month after its plantation by a sucker ; 
and is so productive, that two days work of a man, without 
much labour, in each week ‘in the year, is sufficient for the 
maintenance of a family; and that any space of ground, 
planted with bananas, maintains twenty-five times as many 
persons, as an equal portion sown with wheat. Indigenous 
also to the same hot tracts of Mexico, whose elevation ex- 
ceeds not between two and three thousand feet, are the two 
species of maniok, the sweet and the bitter, of the former of 
which the juice is innocuous, of the latter, in a raw state, 
poisonous. The two species seem not distinguishable by 
the sight, nor otherwise than by the taste. The bitter juice 
is divested of its bad qualities by boiling. Grated, com- 
pressed, in sacks like apples for cider, formed into cakes, 
and baked on plates of iron, the maniok roots yield an ex- 
cellent kind of bread, agreeable to the taste, and very nu- 
tritive, as containing much saccharine matter. The har- 


- vest of this vegetable, which in its root resembles the pars- 


nip, and in its mode of culture the potatoe, comes not till 
seven or eight months after the planting of the slips. In 
plains more elevated and not so sultry is the potatoe culti- 


‘vated, which appears to have been indigenous to Chili, and 


‘propagated thence to the Mexican territories; where it 
seems to have been unknown before the Spanish invasion.* 


} 


Humboldt, chap. 9. 


MEXICO; 33 


Tobacco, an indigenous vegetable, with which the east- CHAPTER _ 
ern hemisphere has been furnished by America, would be 
cultivated to great extent, if its culture were not restricted 
by Spanish ordennances. The case is different with the 
sugar-cane, which has been imparted by the Old world to 
the New, and of which the cultivation has rapidly encreased 
since the conclusion of the eighteenth century. As the 
work is here performed by hired labourers, and.consequently 
at vastly less expense than in the West Indian islands, 
where slaves only are employed, this and other continental 
countries will probably, in course of time, supersede the 
exportation of sugar from those islands. Before the intro- 
duction of the cane into their territories, the Mexicans pro- 
cured sugar from the stalk of the maize and-other vegetables. 
The culture of flax and hemp has been discouraged, but 
indigenous cotton of the finest quality is copiously pro- 
duced, Several species.of the indigo plant are also natives 
of the Mexican soil, but the province of Guatimala, of 
which the annual product of the best quality in the world, 
is valued at above half a million, is the chief scene of its 
cultivation. Sarsaparilla, the sanative root of which is so 
well known, grows wild in great quantities, as also the | 
jalapa plant, a kind of what the botanists term convolvulus, 
from which the medicinal powder of jalap is made. The 





region most productive of these two vegetables, the eastern 
slope of the Mexican land, is also most remarkable for the 
growth of the vanilla, a plant which adheres to trees like 
ivy, and bears leaves like those of the laurel, but larger, 
and pods with an aromatic pulp, applied to the imparting 
of a perfume to chocolate. It grows spontaneous in the 
forests, but is meliorated by the care of man, 
E 


34 


CHAPTER 
I. 





MEX1COe | 


Among the indigenous fruit trees is the cocoa, the almonds 
of which are manufactured into chocolate. This by the 
Spaniards was found in use among the Mexicans under the 
name of chocolate. Yet at present the cultivation of this 
valuable tree is neglected in all the Mexican provinces ex- 
cept Guatimala, The plantation of coffee has been lately 
introduced, and may probably become considerable. 'The 
same prediction may be admitted concerning the olive and 
the grape, which thrive well in this country, since the trans- 
plantation of the trees from Europe, but. have been pre- 
vented by government from becoming an object of extensive 
culture. The agave or maguey tree, which varies much 
in species, has served in place of the vine to furnish liquor 
to the aboriginals, This liquor extils from a cut made 
where a great bunch of flowers would otherwise be deve- 


‘loped. An ordinary product from a tree of hardly five feet 


high is a hundred and and fifty bottles in the year; but the 
quantity is often considerably greater. The vinous juice, 
thus obtained, abounding in saccharine matter, ferments, 
is fit for use in a few days, and, though it has a fetid smell, 
is preferred by some of even the white inhabitants to every 
other beverage. It is called pulque by the Spaniards, re- 
sembles cider in appearance, and yields by distillation a very 
strong brandy. From the bark of this tree the ancient 
Mexicans manufactured their paper. 

To enumerate all the vegetables of a country, which, by 
its various elevations and temperatures, unites the products 
of the temperate and torrid zones, could not be attempted 


MEXICO, 


in this work. The variety of its forest trees is altogether 
prodigious. Among these are the cabbage palm, the cotton 
tree, the ironwood, the mahogany, the logwood, the cedar, 
the oak, and the pine. The first, which bears a mass of 
edible substance at its top, of a white hue, and ofan agree- 
able taste, like that of the artichoke, is beautifully majestic, 


growing to the height of above a hundred feet. The second, . 


little less in height, bears a most beautifully splendid profu- 
sion of variously coloured flowers, in which predominates 
the hue of the carnation, succeeded by small pods, in which 
is contained cotton of a silky fineness. The logwood and 
mahogany are so abundant as to have induced some English 


adventurers, at no small risk, in defiance of the Spanish ~ 


power, to forma settlement in Yucatan, in the bay of Hon- 
duras. The mahogany tree, conspicuous in the dense 
forests by its leaves of a reddish yellow, is of so vast a size, 
that, though it is cut at the height of twelve feet from the 
ground, a single tree is often found to measure twelve 
thousand superficial feet, and to bring a price of more than 
a thousand British pounds.* Near the city of Mexico have 
been cypresses found fifty feet in girth. ; 


The most useful quadrupeds of this, as of other American ‘ 


countries, are all’ of foreign introduction, as the horse, the 


ass, the cow, the sheep, and the hog, all of which have mul- 


tiplied to a suprising degree. Two species indeed of the 
neat, one of which is called the musk ox, were indigenous, 


* Henderson, p. 55. + Humboldt’s Researches, vol. 1, p. 251. 


E 2 


35 


te Ta 





Animals, 


56 : MEXICO; 


CHAPTER ‘but never made subservient to the use of man by taming: 
———~ Several indigenous varieties of the dog were found ina. do-— 
mestic state among the Mexicans, one of which, termed 
techichi, was eaten. by the natives, for which. purpose it was 
frequently emasculated and fattened. As this’ people were 
destitute of labouring quadrupeds, all the operations of 
agriculture.and the carrying of burdens were performed by. 
the unaided strength of the human. species. Among the 
innumerable species of wild quadrupeds. are some varieties 
of the deer, the armidillo, the porcupine, and the monkey. 
We find. also the pecaree, the agootee, the racoon, the ant- 
eater, the tapeer, andthe opossum. The beasts of prey are 
chiefly varieties of the cat, to. the two largest species of 
which the name of tiger is given, though their size is gene- 
_ rally far from entitling them to that denomination. The 
more formidable, but more rare, of these two sorts is termed. 
the black tiger, the other the Brazilian, 


_ A few fowls were found tame among the natives of Mex- 
ico by the first European. visiters, among which were the 
turkey and a.species of duck; but the gallinaceous race of 

- poultry, called the cock and hen by Europeans, was un- 
known till its importation from the old continent.. The tur- 
key, with which America has furnished. the old world, is 
much larger in its wild than in its. domestic state. Perhaps 
the former is of a different species. from the latter. The 
wild sort has been. found to grow to the weight-of forty 
pounds in the southern. parts of North America.* It has 


* Voyage de Michaux, p. 190, 


MEXICO, 


quite disappeared in the populous parts of the vast Mexican 
isthmus; but it still inhabits the thick forests of Yucatan, 
Honduras, and other southern tracts. Here it is said to 
display such a brilliancy of plumage, as not to yield in 
beauty to the most splendid species of the peacock.* Next 
in size to this bird, and much resembling it in its habits, of 
a beautiful figure, and quite easily tamed, but so impatient 
of cold as not easily to bear a removal to cooler climates, 
is the curassow, the male of which is nearly black, but the 


female of a rich chocolate hue,. with variegated spots, and 


superior | to her mate in magnitude of body. The penelope 
cristata or quam, much esteemed for its flesh, belongs also 
to the class of indigenous poultry. The only species here 
known of the partridge resembles the Guinea hen much in 
appearance, and even. in size. 


Amid the inconceivably great variety of birds we find the 
dove, the wood-pigeon, the scarlet spoonbill, ‘the humming 
bird, the toucan,. various tribes of the heron, and of the 
parrot. The swallow has been an object of curiosity, parti- 
ceularly about the bay of Honduras. Here it is-seen in pro- 
digtous. numbers during the rainy season, but afterwards 
totally disappears. Each morning, at the dawn, these birds 
are observed to rise in a vast spiral column, in the form of 
a waterspout, toa certain height, whence they disperse in 


all directions. At sunset they re-assemble, and descend in. 


the same form, with such velocity, as to make a noise like 
the roar of an immense torrent, or of a tremendous gust of 


* Henderson, p. 110. 


37 


CHA PEER ; 


58 


CHAPTER 





MEXICO. 


wind.* Of the sinall birds of the woods, which in general 
possess great beauty of plumage, but no melody of voice, 
one of the tribes is composed of some species of the ortolan, 
which are so numerous, that a hundred of their nests might 
often be counted on a single tree. The lakes, the rivers, 
and the inlets of the ocean, are covered with vast flocks of 
water-fowl of various kinds, among which is a species the 
same in appearance with what is termed in Europe the Mus- 
covy duck. 

The tribes of serpents, lizards, and other reptiles, seem 
here to be nearly the same as in other tropical countries, 


Among the inhabitants of the waters are the manatee and 


alligator. The turtle, also, particularly in three species, 
abounds in the neighbouring seas. - In general the marine 
animals are the same with those of other American régions 
within the torrid zone ; but the case is somewhat different 
in respect of the terrene. The latter, in the northern and 
elevated lands, are like those of the neighbouring countries 
of North America ; but in the hot maritime and southern 
territories they are similar to those of the South American 
regions between the tropics. The shell which yields the 
purple dye, and that which contains the pearl, are consi- 
derably copious on the western coast, the former chiefly 
in the bay of the Tehuantepec, the latter in the bay of Pa- 
nama. The Pacific ocean in the vicinity of the vast Mex- 
ican isthmus, particularly between the main land and the 
Marias islands, abounds in whales of the largest size and 


* Henderson, p. 120. 


MEXICO,” 


39 


most valuable kinds. « The chief object of pursuit to fishers CHAPTER 


- in this tract of ocean is the cachalot, in the enormous ca- 
verns of whose snout is contained the substance called 
spermaceti. A single fish of this species often yields above 
a hundred and twenty barrels, of above thirty gallons each, 
of this unctuous matter.* This fishery has been hitherto 
pursued almost exclusively by adventurers from the British 
Islands and the United States of North America. 


Of the insect tribes the most useful and most worthy of 
notice are the bee, the silkworm, and the cochineal. Mex- 


ico possesses an indigenous bee, either destitute of a sting,. 
or armed only with a feeble one, the wax of which is not» 
so easily whitened as that of Europe. 'This-species abounds | 


particularly in Yucatan, especially in the environs of the 
town of Compeachy, which sometimes exports near eight 
tuns of wax in the year. The white mulberry tree, with 
its concomitant silk worm, was brought early from Europe 
into this country, but its culture has not been permitted to 
extend. Several indigenous kinds, however, of the cater- 


pillar ¢alled silkworm, subsisted there, together with a 


species of mulberry, previously to the discovery of America, 
of the silk of some of which a few stuffs are still manufac- 
tured. Most of these feed on leaves entirely different from 
those of the mulberry, particularly on those of a tree called 
the arbutus madrono. These insects weave their silk into 
pendent bags, seven inches long, of a brilliant whiteness, 
composed of several stratums of so dense a tissue, as to 


* Humboldt, chap. 10. 





é 


40 


CHAPTER 
1. 





MEXICO. 


yesemble Chinese paper, and to be applicable to the same 
use. It isin fact a natural paper, which the ancient Mex- 


icans used in writing, pasting together several stratums, to 
render the thickness such as they thought proper.* They 
also wrote on the parchment. of the skins of stags, and on 
paper fabricated from the bark of the agave. The lustre 
of the madrono silk, as this is termed, would render it 
highly valuable, if impediments were not opposed to the 
fabrication of it into cloth by the extreme difficulty Sape 
rienced in the winding of the thread. 


The dual insect, indigenous only in the American 
regions, but begun to be propagated lately in the Indian, 
is of about the size of a bug, found adhering to a thorny 
shrub termed nopal, which bears a fruit resembling the fig. 
This insect is of two kinds, the wild and the fine. The no- 
pals also, on which two kinds subsist, are specifically or 
essentially different. The wild cochineal, which thrives in 
several parts of South America, as well as in Mexico, is co- 
vered with a white sort of down, like cotton, which increases 
with its age. Though the colour, which it yields is very 
beautiful, and permanent, it is little esteemed in comparison 


_ of the fine. The latter sort, which is larger than the wild, 


and powdered with a white substance, resembling fine 
meal, requires very much the care of man, particularly in 
the culture of the nopals, which are not permitted to grow 
above the height of four feet, and the preserving of the ani- 
mal from destructive insects and other enemies.. At a cer- 


Humboldt, chap. 10, 


MEXICO. fi: 


tain stage of its existence the animal-is killed, by being 


plunged in hot water, or by other means. In some districts » 


it affords three harvests, or gatherings, in the year. Its 
production appears to have been more general in Mexico, 
to which it seems to have been peculiar, before the Spanish 
conquest than at present. Its culture has been lately almost 
confined to the province of Oaxaca, which is said to furnish 
Europe with four hundred tuns annually, at the price of 
half a million. So lately as about the middle of the eigh- 
teenth century, a considerable quantity was produced in 
Yucatan, but in a single night the insect was exterminated 
in that peninsula by the cutting of alf the nopals. This 
deed is charged by the adripiints to the account of the 
government, which is said to have adopted this measure for 
the securing of a monopoly to cultivators in other parts : 
but by the white inhabitants of Mexico it is ascribed to the 


aboriginals, who are said to have been actuated by resent- 


ment at the low price fixed by Spanish avarice on the pro- 
duct of their industry.* In either supposition the fact is 
conformable to the erroneous system of Spanish admi- 
nistration. | 


Whatsoever may be in future times the product of the 


soil in this fertile country, under an improved political sys-. 


tem and’ an augmented population, the- great object of 
pursuit has hitherto been the metals of gold and silver. 


Minerals of other kinds, which appear to be sufficiently ~ 
copious “in the bowels of the earth, as copper, tin, lead, 7 


ba Humboldt, chagt 10, 
F 


4i 
CHAPTER 


42 


CHAPTER 


MEXICO. — 


iron, and mercury, have been as yet much neglected. Tin 


———-————-_ is discovered, in the same manner as gold-dust, in alluvious 


grounds, or the beds of torrents. Mercury, so much used . 
in the extraction of silver by amalgamation, may probably 
hereafter be procured in such quantity from the Mexican 
mines as not only to. supply the consumption at home, but 
also, in a considerable degree, that of Europe, instead of 
the Mexican miners being, as at present, furnished in great 
part thence. with this mineral. Among the very various 
substances of the fossil class, found in several territories of 
this vast region, are zinc, antimony, and arsenic : but cobalt 
and manganese appear not to have occurred in such quantity 
as to merit notice. Neither has salt been discovered in a 
mineral state, in masses of great size, but is thickly dissemi- 
nated in those high argillacious lands. which form the ridge 
of the Gordillera, and which resemble in. their nature the 
great saline plains of Tartary and Tibbet, It is also found 
in marine marshes, after the evaporation of the water by 
the sunbeams, particularly about the port of Colima on the 
coast of the Pacific; and in the beds of desiccated lakes 
in the imterior country, especially in that of Penon- 
blanco, on the northern borders of the province of Zaca- 
tecas, which, on becoming regularly dry about the brumal 
solstice, yields annually to government above twelve thou- 
sand tuns of salt, not pure, but mixed with particles of 


earth, 


Mining industry in Mexico has heretofore been directed ° 
almost exclusively to gold and silver. The quantity pro- 
cured of the former is however comparatively small, not 


MEXICO. 


équal in value to a twentieth part of the latter. The gold is 


obtained not only from alluvious grounds by the common — 


process of washing, but also, either pure or mixed with 
silver, in the mines. The silver exported annually from 
Mexico is computed at near sixteen hundred and fifty théu- 
sand pounds of troy weight. The quantity indeed extracted 
from the earth in this country is said to be ten times as great 
as that which is furnished by all the mines of Europe toge- 
ther, and to constitute two-thirds of what is drawn fréitil 
all parts of the globe. Yet, though mines are worked in 
near five hundred places, above one half of the whole quan- 
tity procured is said to be yielded by the three districts of 
Guanaxuato, Zacatecas, and Catorce. Gwuanaxuato alone 
is said to produce above a fourth part of the silver of Mex- 
ico, and a sixth of all exported from all the regions of 
America. By an ingenious calculation the quantity of sil- 
ver furnished in the course of three centuries by the mines 
of all America is computed to atriount to above three hun- 
dred and sixteen millions of pounds of troy weight. The 
product of the Mexican mines, which have so vastly con- 
tributed to this enormous sum, has been in a state of 
increase since the middle of the eighteenth century. Not- 
withstanding the unequalled wealth afforded by these 
mines, they exhibit not such large blocks of native silver as 
have been discovered in the Old continent. This metal is 
commonly disseminated in the metalliferous earth, in a pure 
state indeed, but in particles s SO minute as not to be percep- 
tible except through a microscope, and so thinly arranged, 

that sixteen thousand ounces of this earth yield only three 
or four ounces of silver. The territories in this country 

F2 . 


43 


CHA eho 


44 


CHAPTER 


re 


Antiquities. 





- . | MEXICo, 


most abugduits in the precious sanetahe are situated between 
the twenty-first degree and the twenty-fourth and a half of 
northern latitude, on the ridge and western slope of the 
Cordillera, at elevations of from near six thousand to near 


_ ten thousand feet above the ocean’s level, mostly in places 


of such a temperature as is favourable to. ‘vegetation and 
agriculture.* All the works of the Mexican mines are 
voluntarily performed by hired labourers, who are paid at 
least three or four shillings a day. 3 


In their search for the precious metals the first colonists 
from Spain were guided by the indications of mines received. 
by them from the natives. ‘These had not only discovered 
the means of extracting treasure from alluvious earths, but 
had alsolong “ applied themselves to subterraneous opera- 


‘tions in the working of veins. They cut galleries and dug 


pits of communication and ventilation ; and they had instru- 
ments adapted for the cutting of the rock.” The excava- | 
tions formed by their mining industry are among the monu-- 
ments which attest that the ancient Mexicans had made 
much greater progress in the arts than is generally supposed. 
They had not proceeded to the coinage of gold and silver, 
but had converted them into various ornaments, particularly 
vases of exquisite workmanship, some of which were in pre- 
servation until very lately. Of their instruments. made of 
obsidian and of copper mixed with tin I have already made 
mention, _ Some monuments of combined labour, works 


executed for religious or political purposes, might be ex- 


* Fora full account of the mines see Humboldt, chap. 11. 


MEXICO, 


pected to remain, where a nation once subsisted so nume- 
rous and under so regular a government. The fortified hill 
of Xochicalco is remarkable, surrounded by a wall and 


ditch above two miles in circuit. But in the capital and its" 


environs, where the old city was destroyed by its ferocious 
conquerors, few relics of antiquity are found, except the 
ruins of aqueducts and of dikes constructed for resistance 
against inundation, two vast blocks called the stone of the 
sacrifices and the stone of the calendar, the colossal statue 
of a goddess covered with hieroglyphics, and two religious 
structures, called teocallies, at some distance, in the vicinity. 
The stone of the calendar is denominated from the use to 
which it was applied, and that of the sacrifices, on which 
immolated victims were thrown, is adorned with a relievo, 
representing the triumph of a Mexican king. These blocks, 
containing each above three hundred cubic feet, serve to 
shew what huge masses the ancient Mexicans contrived to 
move, by what means we are not informed. But, among 
a multitude of idols, has been lately found buried a carved 
stone of above ten times the size of either of these, which 


the Spaniards endeavoured in vain to remove. 


The remains of religious piles are however the chief _mo- 
numents of Mexican antiquity. ‘These were all truncated 
pyramids, bearing a rude resemblance to some of the cele- 
brated pyramids of Egypt, ascending by stages, and termi- 
nating above in a flat surface, on which were placed the 
images and altars of their deities. Great stairs of hewn 
stone conducted, on the outside, from the bottom to the top 
of the fabric ; but whether or not the mass was solid through- 


45 


CORRE TEE 





. 


46 


CHAPTER 
 < selseite 


MEXICO. 


out, or contained apartments within, has not been deter~ 
mined. The great teocalli in the Mexican metropolis, 
which was probably the model of all others, was destroyed 
by the Spaniards, but the remains of two are still seen in the 
same valley, north-eastward of the lake of Tescuco. One — 
of these, consecrated to the sun, has a base near seven hur- 
dred feet long, and, in its present state, a perpendicular 


height of a hundred and eighty. The-other, which was de- 


dicated to the moon, rises from a smaller base to the height 
of only a hundred and forty-four feet.. Each is a mingled 
mass composed of stones and clay, incased with a thick wall 
of a porous kind of stone termed amygdaloid and with 


‘lime. The sides of these structures face not exactly the 


four cardinal points of the compass, but deviate only fifty-, 
two minutes from that position, from which the pyramid of 
Cholula deviates not at all. The base of this, the greatest 
of all these piles in Mexico, is fourteen hundred and twenty- 
three feet broad, and what remains of the height is a hundred 
and seventy-seven. It is composed, as far as known, of 
alternate stratums of brick and clay, faced on each side 
with a wall of amigdaloid. The materials are different in 
the pyramid of Papantla, in the northern part of. the pro- 
vinee of Veracruz. With a base exactly square, of a breadth 
of eighty-two feet, and with a height of not more than sixty- 
five, the teocalli of Papantla is much less remarkable for 
its size than for its symmetry, and for the polish and per- 
fectly regular cut of the immense blocks of hewn stone of 
which only it is composed, Six stages in this pile, adorned 
with hieroglyphics, are still visible, and a seventh seems 
concealed by a rank vegetation around. Environed by a 


MEXICO, 


thick forest, and concealed by the silence of the aboriginals, 
who held it in. great veneration, this monument: remained 
quite unknown to Europeans, till it was accidentally dis- 
covered after the middle of the eighteenth century.* 


Among the arts of the ancient Mexicans was the manu- 
facturing of paper and cloth from silk and cotton. By the 
introduction of wool and the use of iron by the Europeans, 
the manufactures of the natives are improved: but their in- 
dustry in these, as in various products of the soil, has been 
indirectly discouraged by the government of Spain, whose 
erroneous policy was, that the colonies should be totally de- 
pendant on the parent country for whatsoever merchandize 


47 


SSEerER. 





Commerce, 


the latter could furnish. This system, which raised the 


price of imported goods, by preventing a sufficient supply, 


obliged the inhabitants to encourage a contraband traffic 


with the Dutch and English colonies. A. different state of 
_ things will doubtless have place, and has eyen already had 
a commencement ; but our information is limited to the situa- 
tion in which affairs were found in the earliest years of the 


nineteenth century. Not only the colonial system of the © 


Spanish court, but also the nature of the country itself, has 
considerably impeded its commercial operations. From the 
great paucity of harbours, and the tempestuous weather, 
already mentioned, inimical to navigation, the exterior com- 
merce is confined to a few harbours ; while, from the almost 
total want of navigable rivers, the merchandize is transported 

to and from the interior only by Jand-carriage; and this 


* Humboldt, chap, 8 Researches, vol. 1, ps 81-114. 


48 


CHAPTER 
ray 





MEXICO, 


carriage, from the declivities of the land toward the coasts, 
aud the narrowness of the roads, unfavourable to wheeled ve- 
hicles, is performed on the backs of mules and other quadru- 
peds. ‘Thus near seventy thousand mules are employed in 
the conveyance of goods to and from the port of Veracruz 
alone. Another impediment is the insalubrity of the maritime 
towns, which, from their low situation, are exposed to violent 
heats, unpropitious to the health of Europeans, and of the 
inhabitants of the elevated plains of the interior country. 
From the heat, combined with other causes, arise disorders 
of the body, particularly the yellow fever, which frequently 
commits great ravages at Veracruz. 


The internal commerce of the Mexican provinces is main- 
tained almost entirely by land-carriage, or by a coasting 
navigation. The external is transacted chiefly in the mari- 
time towns of Veracruz, Portabello, Panama, and Acapulco. 
The imports consist of manufactured goods, and various ” 
other articles, as wine, brandy, iron, steel, mercury, and 
wax. Among the exports are sugar, flour, indigo, sarsa- 
parilla, vanilla, jalap, logwood, cochineal, raw cotton, and 
hides, but principally the precious metals, in coin, wrought | 
plate, or ingots. The annual value of the imports, which 
is doubtless in a state of augmentation, has been calculated, 
including the contraband trade, which is stated at the fourth, 
at least, of the whole, to amount to four millions and a half 


of British pounds. Gold and silver constitute more than 


two-thirds of the exports in value, besides that near two 
millions, in ‘these metals, are, or at least were, annually 
drawn out of the country in taxes to the Spanish king. Thus 





MEXICO. 49 


all the product of the mines, estimated at nearly six millions CHAPTER 
a year is exported, except a little more than the worth of ee 
two hundred thousand pounds, which remains to augment 
the quantity of the precious metals possessed by the inha- 
bitants.. The great emporium of Mexico is Veracruz, 
where between four and five hundred vessels receive and 
discharge their cargoes annually. Here thechief conimerce 
with Europe is maintained ; but the port of Acapulco, one. 
of the finest in the world, where the mercantile business 
between the Mexican and Asiatic regions is transacted, 
hardly receives ten ships in the year. These vessels are 
coasters, except four or five sent annually to Peru, and one 
which has heretofore alone carried all.the merchandize im- 
ported to this country from Asia. This, denominated the 
Manilla galleon, a ship of from twelve to fifteen hundred 
tuns, carries from Acapulco to Manilla, the ¢apital of the 
Philippine islands, little else than silver, but brings home 
the goods of China, and other Asiatic countries, to the va- 
lue of about four hundred thousand pounds. Its run to the 
Philippines, by the trade winds, is performed in fifty og 
sixty days: its return, which formerly required five or six 
months, is now accomplished in three or four.* The trade 
of Panama and Portobello consists principally in the inter- 
change of merchandize between Spain and Peru. The 
goods are debarked from the Pacific and Atlantic oceans at — 
these towns, and carried over land from the one to the other. 
The commercial system of thé Spanish colonies in America 
has already undergone considerable alterations, and must be 
expected to undergo much greater still. 


Humboldt, chap. 12. 


G 


56 


cae 





Government, 





MEXICO. — == 


The govertiment exercised by Spain over her colonies, 
which in so great a degree paralysed the commercial, agri- 
cultural, and- manufactural industry of the inhabitants of 
Mexico, by both directly and indirectly protecting monopo- 
lies in favour of Spanish merchants, has continued still un- 
propitious to colonial prosperity, notwithstanding some 
favourable relaxations in later years. | By the baiws: of the 
state no merchandize was allowed to be imported by other 
than Spanish vessels, and to oblige the inhabitants to supply 
themselves by importation, their governors were instructed 
to discourage, by indirect means, the growth and fabrication 
of such articles as. the Spanish traders wish to sell to them. 
The monopoly and the difficulties of land-carriage to the 
interior raised the prices of goods to a very inconvenient 
pitch. The disadvantage sustained by the great body of 
the people was disregarded by the few in whose hands was 
held exclusively the whole administration of government. 


_ The natives of the country, whether of American or Eu- 


ropean descent, were excluded from all offices of power, 
both military and civil, and to these offices were admitted 
Europeans only, natives of Spain. Beside this exclusion 


from authority, for the retaining of the natives in subjection, 


mutual antipathies were encouraged between the different 
castes or classes of the people, as the aboriginals, the cre- 
oles, and people of mixed breed. Not only between the 
classes, but also between men of the same class, differing 
only in territorial situation, aversions are prevalent. Thus 
the inhabitants of the hot lowlands on the coasts, and those 
of the cool highlands in the interior, bear mutual hatred ; 
the former denominating the latter a dull or sluggish race, 
the latter accusing the former of fickleness and levity. 


MEXICO.« 


"The viceroy of Mexico, as the representative of the king 
of Spain, rules, like the governors of other Spanish colo- 
nies, with nearly absolute power in this country, which is 
styled the kingdom of New Spain by the Spaniards. His 
power indeed is subject to controul ; but, at so great a dis- 
tance from the supreme seat of government in Europe, he 
can more or less, according to the strength of the iterest 
by which his party is upheld, evade the restrictions imposed 
on his authority. His jurisdiction extends into North Ame- 
rica, far beyond the geographical boundaries of the Mexi- 
ean isthmus, but not farther southward than the northern 


limits of Guatimala, which, by arrangements, destined. 


doubtless, in course of time, to give place to others, has 
been- formed into a viceroyalty almost independent of the 
Mexican governor. The government of Guatimala com- 
prehends those of Nicaragua and Costarica, as far as the 
political confines of New Granada, to the authority of 
whose viceroy the isthmus of Darien is subject. Seldom 
more than the annual sum of between twelve and thirteen 
thousand pounds has been assigned by the Spanish court to 
the viceroy of Mexico, a salary not adequate to the regal 
magnificence displayed by him in public. Some, however, 


of these governors have contrived to extort, by indirect — 


means, between. three and four hundred thousand pounds, in 
the space of a few years, from the people placed under their 


jurisdiction: but others have acted in a most nobly disin- — 


terested manner, particularly the. Count de Revillagigedo 

and the Chevalier d’ Azanza, whose memories are held in 

very great veneraticn. To give a formal statement of the 

tribunals of justice and other parts of the political system, 
a2 


CHAPTER 





of 
CHAPTER 


f 


MEXICO. 


perpetually liable to be newly modeled and newly arranged, 
seems inexpedient in this work, and could not be interest- 


ing. 


All the vices of the feudal power, so deleterious in Spain, 
have passed into Mexico, with this addition of evil, that the 
immense distance from the seat of the supreme authority 
renders the application of remedies more difficult, notwith- 
standing the courts of justice termed audiences, and various 
other institutions, in appearance wisely planned by that 


high directing body, styled the Council of the Indies, to 


whose jurisdiction are subject all the affairs of the Spanish 
possessions in America and the Philippine islands, and 
whose integrity of conduct has been greatly extolled.* The 
lands are in great proportion the property of a few power- 


_ful families, whose extensive possessions have gradually 


absorbed the smaller estates, who harass.the farmers, and 
eject them at pleasure, to the vast retardation of agricultu- 
ral industry. But the evils of the political system, which _ 
indeed at several successive times have been in part cor- 
rected, press chiefly on the aboriginals, who still, notwith- 
standing much accomplished in their favour, remain in a 
miserably degraded condition. This unfortunate race of. 
people might have been exterminated, like the indigenous. 
inhabitants of the West Indian islands, if the court of Ma-— 
drid had not made early exertions in their favour, exertions 
which perhaps saved the remnant from destruction, but 
which unintentionally tended to confirm their slavery. In- 


* Depons’ Caraccas, 8vo. London, 1807, vol. 1, ps 257—260. : 


MEXICOe 


53 


stead of being seized indiscriminately as slaves by the CHAPTER | 


Spaniards, the natives were distributed among them, in 
such manner that each colonist might be a protector to the 
persons put under his authority. But, instead of protec- 
tors, the people found themselves consigned to tyrannical 
masters, who, by a perversion of the ordonnance, treated 
them, notwithstanding their being declared freemen by the 
Spanish Government, as vassals ‘alixed to the soil, and as 
much the property of each landholder respectively as the 
cattle in his fields. In the eighteenth century, the condi- 
tion of this race was much ameliorated. By instructions 
from the sovereign power, particulary, to his great honour, 
in the reign of Charles the Third, the viceroys and audiences 
took measures to cause the protection of the laws to extend 
to the ancient natives. This laudable design was still fur- 
ther promoted by the division of the country into intendan- 
cies, territories over each of which a sub-governor, styled 
intendant, presides, a part of whose duty is the protection 
of this people. ' 

Whatsoever attention we may imagine bestowed by the 
government of Spain on its American colonies, no effectual 
system of laws.has as yet been devised for the aboriginal 
Mexicans, nor have any of a salutary nature, which have 
been enacted, answered fully the proposed end. The In- 
dians, as the pure descendents of the ancient natives are 


denominated, are completely insulated in society, with re-— 


spect to the rest of the inhabitants, banished in general 
into the most barren parts of the country, and distributed 
in villages, in which no people of any other description 





54 


MEXICO. 


cuAprer are permitted to dwell. Except the real or pretended de- 





seendents of their ancient nobles, who however are not 
distinguishable from the rest in either dress or manners, 
they are subjected to a poll-tax, which is regarded as 
brand of infamy. They are governed immediately by ma- 
gistrates of this class of gentry, who, far from being their 
protectors, serve as the tyrannical instruments of oppres- 
sion under the white inhabitants. Such indeed is every 
where the nature of mankind that authority is most cruelly 
exercised by slaves. With respect to legal rights, they are 
treated as beings of an intellect by nature inferior to that of 
people of European descent. They are condemned by absurd 
laws to a perpetual minority, insomuch that no deed signed 
by any of them is obligatory, nor pecuniary contract. ‘aie 


the value of fifteen franks, or between twelve and thirteen 


shillings. The people of any mixed breed are in like manner 


‘segregated, marked with disgraceful inferiority by the poll- 


tax, and excluded from political privileges. Various are 
the acts of oppression exercised over these and the Indians 
by the privileged part of the community. ‘Thus, for in- 
stance, a white man, concerned in a manufactory, contrives 
to bring into his debt a man of a lower class, and employs - 
him in his workshop for the payment of the debt by labour; 


‘but, instead of wages in money, he furnishes him with ne- 


cessaries at a price so exorbitant that the debt is never 
discharged. _ The miserable workman, thus rendered a 
perpetual debtor, is incarcerated for life, and forced to waste 
his health in continual toil, under the lash of an unfeeling 
master. The white inhabitants, who tyrannize over all 
others, are far from being equally privileged among them- 


MEXICO. 


selves. To Spaniards only of European birth are confided 
offices of trust and emolument, to the exclusion of the 


creoles, or natives of European ancestry. Discontent — 
against the Spanish government was the consequence — 


_ among the latter; but their fear of the lower classes, in 
case of a revolution, has restrained them from vigorous 
measures for the asserting of their independence.* 


Without the disunion of the classes of inhabitants, and 
the well:founded dread of the rest of the natives enter- 


tained by the creoles, the military force maintained in : 


Mexico would be inadequate to its retention under the 
government of Spain. ‘This force is stated at little more 
than thirty thousand, of which the regular troops form less 


than a third. The rest consists of a militia composed chiefly | 
of creoles. For external defence these troops might be 


sufficient. 'The coasts are unfavourable to the debarcation 


of an invading army: the air of the maritime tracts is hos- . 


tile to the health of foreigners; and many parts of the 
interior country would be found incommodious to the march 
of a foe: while desarts and other obstacles on the northern 
frontiers may be expected long to prevent any formidable 
irruptions of an enemy on that quarter. The expenses of 
the military establishment, and of other parts of the system 
of internal government, absorb much the greater part of 
the royal revenue raised ‘annually from the Mexican ter- 
ritories, which has commonly amounted to between four 
and five millions of British pounds. Above a fourth of the 


* Humboldt, chap. 6, 10, 12. 


59 


CHA Pree 





56 


CHAPTER 
Mes 


Religion. 


MEXICO, 


whole arises from the duties on the precious metals ex- 
tracted from the earth. Near seven hundred thousand 
pounds a year have been sent to supply the charges of 
government in other Spanish colonies, and above a million 
to the royal treasury in Spain. This treasury has indeed 
received twice as great an annual remittance from Mexico 
as from all the other foreign possessions of the — 
monarchy together.* 


The revenue of the church in Mexico is probably equal 
to much more than a fifth.of that which is levied for the use 
of the king. The perpetually increasing income arising 
from tithes appears to amount to about six hundred 
thousand pounds. ‘The lands, which are in the actual pos- 
session of the clergy, pay perhaps not more to them in 
rent than forty or fifty thousand pounds a year; but they 
possess funds to the amount of upwards of ten or twelve 
millions, lent to proprietors of lands on the security of 
mortgages, or bequeathed, and charged on estates by a like 
mode of security. The difference in the incomes of the 
clergy is prodigious. Thus, while the annual revenue of 
the archbishop of Mexico falls little short of thirty thousand 
pounds, that of a parish priest in an Indian village’is often 
not more than twenty or twenty-five pounds, The paro- 
chial clergy indeed contrive to augment their means of” 
living by levying small sums from their Indian parishi- 
oners. Thus they are paid ten franks, or between eight 
and nine shillings, for every baptism, twenty franks for each 


* Humboldt, chap, 14. 


MEXICO. 


certificate of marriage, twenty for interment, and from 
twenty-five to thirty, by every individual, in offerings which 
are called voluntary. A considerable inequality, in pecu- 


niary circumstances, has place even among the prelates, 


who are ten in number, and whose aggregate yearly income 
may be a hundred and fifty thousand pounds, but among 
whom the bishop of Oaxaca has hardly four thousand. 
Beside about four thousand lay brothers and sisters, the 


‘Mexican clergy consist only of between eleven and twelve — 


thousand, of whom about half are regular. The convents, 
not only here, but in all other parts of Spanish America, 
instead of being founded in retired or solitary places, as in 
Europe, where ‘they contributed much to the progress of 
agriculture, and afforded asylums of hospitality to the tra- 
veller, are mostly crowded together in towns, where they 
are subservient to no purpose of public utility.* 

Except some tribes. of savages, particularly. in Honduras 
and Darien, who remain still heathens, and independent of 
the Spanish government, no other than the Roman Catholic 
religion is professed by any of the inhabitants of Mexico, 
nor indeed of any country subject to the crown of Spain. 
The Indians however know nothing of Christianity beyond 
its exterior forms. They still adhere to their ancient cus- 


toms and ideas, having only exchanged the ceremonies — 


of a sanguinary mode of worship for those of a gentle and 
humane religion. ‘“ This change from old to new rites 


* Humboldt, chap. 7,10. His account extends not to Guatimala or 
to Darien, for which I could only proceed by less authentic materials, 


H 


a 


57 


— 





58 


Noda Ulnar 


eee 


‘MEXICO. 


was the effect of compulsion, not of persuasion, and was 
produced by political events alone. In such a complicated 
mythology as that of the Mexicans, an affinity was easily 


‘imagined between the Aztec deities and those of 'the east. 


The: books of ritual, composed by the Indians in hiero- 
glyphics at the beginning of the conquest, evidently shew, 
that at that period Christianity was confounded with the 
Mexican mythology. ‘The Holy Ghost is here identified 


° with the sacred eagle of the Aztecs. The missionaries not 


Towns, 


only tolerated, they even favoured to a certain extent, this 
amalgamation of ideas, by means of which the Christian 
worship was more easily introduced among the natives, 
who, fond of whatsoever is connected with a prescribed 
order of ceremonies, find in the Christian religion particular 
enjoyments. The festivals of the church, the fire-works 
with which they are accompanied, the processions mingled 
with dances and whimsical disguises, are a most fertile 
source of amusement for the lower Indians. Every where 
the Christian rites have assumed the shades of the country 
into which they have been transplanted. Indians have 
been seen masked, and adorned with small tinkling bells, 
performing savage dances around the altar, while a monk 
of Saint Francis elevated the host.* 


This. wild mode of worship we must suppose to have 
place only in the villages, not in the cities, where civilza- 
tion is chiefly concentrated. Few indeed of the cities and 
towns require particular notice, although, beside the me- 


Humboldt, chap. 6. 


MEXICO. 


tropolis, some are of considerable magnitude. Thus Gua- 
naxuata, with its suburbs, contains above seventy thousand 
inhabitants ; Puebla de los AngeJes above sixty-seven 
thousand ; and Queretaro thirty-five thousand. These 
three cities are situate on thé central table-land, at no great 
distance from one another and from the capital. Zacatecas 
also contains thirty-three thousand, and Oaxaca twenty-four 
thousand souls. The Spaniards, in their choice of the 
situations of towns, followed only the traces of the indige- 
nous population. They imagined themselves to be the 
founders of new cities when they gave new names to those 


of the ancient Mexicans. One of the best built is Puebla, , 


with lofty houses mostly of stone, and with streets broad, 
clean, regular, crossing one another at right angles, and 
ending in a great square in the center. Queretaro i is also 
celebrated for the beauty of its edifices and a noble aque- 
duct. Pasquaro, inhabited. by. six thousand persons, is 
only remarkable for its situation on a beautiful island ina 
charming lake of the same denomination. ‘The maritime 
towns of Acapulco, Veracruz, Portobello, and Panama, are 
famous for their commerce, though otherwise. inconsi- 
derable. 


‘Meajuieds seated on the alae of the Pacific ocean, con- 


tains not more than about four thousand inhabitants, except 
at the arrival of the galeon from Manilla, at which time it 


is crowded with adventitious numbers. Built against the 


back of a chain of gigantic mountains which reverberate 

the sunbeams, it is exposed to a suffocating heat, which 

contributes to render the air unwholesome. | Its admirably 
H2 


59 


CHAPTER 





Acapulco. 


60 


see esa 





Veracruz. 


Portobello, 


MEXICO. 


fine harbour, safe and commodious, consists of a deep and 

spacious bason, which, environed by masses of granite of 

a savage aspect, appears to have been formed by an explo-— 
sion of subterranean fire. ‘The harbour has two entrances, 

and the depth of water on the coast outside is so great, that 

a ship of the line might ‘float almost in contact with the 

rocks in perfect safety. For the admission of breezes from — 
the ocean, for the mitigation of heat in the town, an opening 
has been cut by the labour of man, through the wall of 8th 
mountains. 


~ Contrasted with this town in the nature of its port and 
coast is Veracruz, regularly and beautifully built on the 
shore of the gulf of Mexico, and containing sixteen thou- 
sand inhabitants, beside the multitudes which resort to it at 
the season of traffic, when fleets arrive from Europe, and 


the West Indian islands. Situate in an arid plain, it is fur- 
_ nished with water chiefly by cisterns, which are filled by 


the rains in the wet season. As the country in this neigh- 
bourhood is destitute of rock, its buildings are constructed 
of substances drawn from the bottom of the sea, such as 
are referred to the madrepore class. That which is called 
its port or harbour is only an unsafe road for anchorage, 
among flats and islands, on one of which, named San Juan 
Ulua, is a strong fortress termed a castle. Portobello, 
thus denominated from its excellent harbour on the coast of 
the Atlantic, in the isthmus of Darien, would not deserve 


_ mention except for its trade, which has already been no- 


ticed under the article of commerce. Confined on the 
land-side by mountains covered with wood, its air has been 


MEXICO. 


insalubrious, but its insalubrity has decreased with the de- 
crease of the forests. On the opposite coast of the same 
isthmus, at the distance of- sixty miles, stands the city of 
Panama, on an arid tongue of land destitute of vegetation, 
ina great bay of the Pacific ocean, where a road for an- 
chorage is formed among islands, as at Veracruz. It is 
inclosed with a wall of freestone, and its streets are gene- 
rally broad, straight, and well paved. | 


The capital of all New Spain, indeed the chief town of 
all America, is the city of Mexico, seated in a most remark- 
ably beautiful valley, or widely extended bason, which is 
enclosed, as I have already mentioned, with a wall of ro- 
mantic mountains, and interspersed with lakes of various 
magnitude, five in number. The modern city stands so 
exactly on the same ground which the ancient Tenochtitlan 
occupied, that the site of the cathedral is that of the ancient 
teocalli or temple; the hotel of the Duke of Monteleone, 
in which are kept the archieves of the state, has been 
erected where stood the palace of the unfortunate Monte- 
zuma; and the street now named Tacuba is the same as 
the old Tlacopan.. Yet the ancient city stood within a 
lake, quite insulated by water, accessible only by boats, 
or by three long causeways formed on great dykes: where- 
as the modern is situate wholly on continental ground, be- 
tween the extremities of two lakes, the Tezcuco and Xochi- 
milco. The cause of this difference is the decrease of the 


Tezcuco, whose waters have receded, and left the land dry 


which they formerly occupied around this metropolis. ‘The 
dikes are partly still in existence, forming elevated cause- 


61 


CHAPTER 
I 


Panama- 


Mexico. 


62 


CHA 5 Ss 





MEXICO. 


ways over marshy grounds, and serving as barriers against 
inundation. The present capital however, occupying a 
square near two miles broad, is far inferior in extent to the 
ancient; nor perhaps i is the population of the former, con- 
sisting of nearly a hundred and forty thousand persons, 
equal to more than a third of that of the latter. The po- 
pulation, fertility, and beauty of the whole vale of Tenoch- 
titlan, by the first view of which the Spaniards were enrap- 


- tured, have indeed much declined since the conquest of the 


country. 


« Adorned with numerous teocallies, like so many Mo- 
hammedan steeples, surrounded with water and dikes, 
founded on islands covered with verdure, and receiving 
hourly in its streets thousands of boats which vivified the 
lake, the ancient Tenochtitlan, according to the accounts of 


‘the first conquerors, must have resembled some of the cities 


of Holland, China, or the Delta of Lower Egypt. The capi- 
tal, reconstructed by the Spaniards, exhibits perhaps a less 


vivid, though a more majestic appearance. Mexico is un- 
doubtedly one of the finest cities ever built by Europeans in 


either hemisphere. With the exception of Petersburgh, 
Berlin, Philadelphia, and some quarters of Westminster, 
there does not exist.a city of the same extent which can be 
compared to the capital of New Spain, for the uniform level 
of the ground on which it stands, for the regularity and 
breadth of the streets, and the extent of the public places. 

The architecture is generally of a very pure style, and there 
are even edifices of very beautiful structure. ‘The exterior 
of the houses is not loaded with ornaments. T'wo sorts of 


MEXICO. 


63 


hewn stone, the porous amygdaloid called tetzontli, and es- CHAPTER 
: v6 I. 
pecially a porphyry of vitreous feldspath without any ——""" 


quartz, give to the Mexican buildings an air of solidity, 
and. sometimes even magnificence. There are none of 
those wooden balconies and galleries to be seen which dis- 
figure so much all the European cities in both the Indies. 
The balustrades and gates are all of Biscay iron, orna- 
mented with bronze, and the houses, instead of roofs, have 
terraces like those in Italy and other southern countries.”* 

The modern streets run generally in the directions of the 
ancient, directions adapted doubtless to those of the cause- 


ways, nearly from north to south, and from east to west. 


Some superb public buildings, and other works of art, con- 
tribute to the embellishment of this metropolis, which is 
supplied with fresh water by two aqueducts, the larger of 
which is above six miles long. Of the floating gardens, 
rafts covered with soil, on the lakes, some are-even still in 


existence. . 


Better grounds are furnished for approximating by. ealcu- 
- lation the number of inhabitants in the capital than the area 
of the country, whose form is quite irregular, and of the 
whole of which no maps quite accurate have as yet been 
published. Extending obliquely through twenty degrees 
of latitude, it stretches in length above two thousand miles ; 
but its breadth is altogether various, about sixty miles only 
at the narrowest part, the isthmus of Darien; but at its 


* Humboldt, chap, 8, 


Extent. _ 


64 


CHAPTER 
I. 


Division. 


MEXICO, 


broadest in the north, at what may be termed the base of 
its figure, not less than six hundred and thirty, Perhaps if 
its area could be accurately measured, it would be found to 
contain near six hundred and thirty thousand square Eng- 
lish miles, or above four hundred millions of acres. 


The divisions of New Spain arranged by the Spanish 
government are political and arbitrary, and have been 
arbitrarily altered, nor have any of its arrangements been 
accommodated to geographical delineation on the nor- 
thern quarter, where the vast Mexican isthmus is _politi- 
cally confounded with what are termed the provincias 
internas, the territories claimed by Spain in the immense 
peninsula of North America. In the south are the ter- 
ritories of Darien politically united with New Granada, 
of Veragua, Costarica, Nicaragua, Honduras, Verapaz, 
Guatimala, and Yucatan. Of the remaining portion of 
New Spain, to the north and west of Guatimala, an old 
division is still retained by many of the inhabitants, a divi- 
sion into the provinces, of which some are styled kingdoms, 
of Mexico proper, New Gallicia, New Leon, New Santan- 
der; Cohahuila, and New Biscay. The most northern of 
these extend into North America, as also the. most northern 
of the intendancies into which this country has been more 
recently partitioned. These territories, placed under the 
inspection of sub-governors styled intendants, are named 
Merida which comprehends a part of Yucatan, Oaxaca, 
Veracruz, Mexico, Puebla, Valladolid, Guanaxuato, Gua- 
dalaxara, Zacatecas,.aud San Luis Potosi. Of the last a 
great portion belongs 'to the North American Peninsula. 


MEXICO; 


The provinces or territories into which New Spain 


has been divided are exceedingly unequal in extent and 
population, more especially the latter. The elevated plains, 
where the temperature is mild, are in general far more po- 
pulous than the low tracks near the ocean, where the 
soil is much more fertile, but exposed to much greater heat. 
« The interior of the country contains four cities, which are 
not more than one or two days’ journey distant from one 


65 


bas 


. 
Se le Rs at 


Population. 


another, which possess an aggregate population of three é 


hundred and ten thousand. The central table-land from 
La Puebla to Mexico, and thence to Salamanca. and Ze- 
laya, is covered with villages and hamlets like the most 
cultivated parts of Lombardy. To the east and west of 
this narrow stripe succeed tracts of uncultivated ground, 
on which cannot be found ten or twelve persons to the 
square league,”’* or not near so much as two to the square 
mile. ‘“ The great cities of the Aztecs, and the best culti- 
vated territories, were in the environs of the capital of Mex- 
ico, particularly in the fine valley of Tenochtitlan. This 
alone was. a sufficient reason to induce the Spaniards to 
establish there the center of their new, empire: but they 
loved also to inhabit plains whose climate resembled 
that of their own country, and where they could cultivate 
the wheat and fruit trees of Europe. Indigo, cotton, sugar, 
and coffee, the four great objects of West Indian com- 
merce, were to the conquerors of the sixteenth century of 
very inferior interest. They sought the precious metals 
only with avidity, and the search for these metals fixed 


* Humboldt, chap, 4. 
5 


66 


Kiger res 


Enhabitants, 


MBXICo, 7 


‘them on the central ‘plain or ridge of the Cordillera.”* | 


Possessed of the advantage of a temperature not ungenial, 
the mines of this country, instead of withdrawing the inha- 
bitants from agriculture, are mostly surrounded by the best 
cultivated lands, where the raising of provisions is encour- 
aged by the markets which the multitudes collected by the 
mining business furnish. The most populous of the inten- 
dancies are those of Mexico, Puebla, and Guanaxuato. 
The first is stated to contam on an average two hundred 
and fifty-five, the second three hundred and one, and the | 
third five hundred and eighty-six persons to the square 

feague; while the intendancy of Veracruz is supposed to 
have only thirty-eight. The total population of all New 


- Spain appears, in the year 1803, to have exceeded seven 


millions, and to have been ina state of rapid encrease. 
This country indeed may probably contain about half nf . 
the. inhabitants of all Spanish America. si | 


- About two fifths of the whole population of New Spain 
éonsist of unmixed aboriginals, termed Indians, the des- 
eendant of those ancients tribes who inhabited the country 
before the arrival of Europeans. The white inhabitants of 
unmixed European blood may constitute about one-fifth. 
The rest of the population is composed of persons of mixed 
descent, called castas by some Spanish writers. The whites. 
are divided into creoles and Spaniards or Europeans. The 
former are natives of America : the latter, who form hardly 
a fourteenth of the white population, are natives of Spain. 


* Humboldt, chap. 4, + Idem, chap. 8; also vol. 4, Supplement, po 322. 


MEXICO; : 


The *castas, the tribes of mingled extraction, are distin- 
guished by the appellations of mestizos, mulattoes, and 
zambos. The mestizos or mestees are the mixed descen- 


CHAPTER 


‘dants of whites and Indians, the mulattoes of whites and. _ 


negroes, and the zambos of negroes and Indians, or of ne- 
groes and Chinese or Malays, imported in the intercourse 


with the Philippine islands. “The colour of a mestizo is. 
almost a pure white, and his skin is of a particular trans-. 


parency. ‘The small beard, and small hands and feet, and a 


certain obliquity of the eyes, ate more frequent indications . 
of the mixture of Indian blood than the nature of the hair, 
If a mestiza, a female of this race, marry a white man, the _ 


second generation differs hardly ia any thing from the Eu- 
ropean race. As very few negroes have been introduced 
into New Spain, the mestizos probably compose seven- 
cighths of the whole castes. They are generally accounted 
of a much more mild character than the mulattoes, who 


are distinguished for the violence of their passions and a. 


singular volibility of tongue. ‘The descendants of negroes 


and Indian women bear at Mexico, Lima, and even at the 


Havanah, the strange name of Chino, Chinese. On the 
coast of Caraccas, and, as appears from the laws, even in 
New Spain, they are called zambos.” 


« This last denomination is now principally limited to 
the descendants of a negro and a female mulatto, or a ne- 
_ gro and a Chinese female. From these common zambos 
they distinguish the sambos prietos, who descend from a 
negro and a female zamba. From the mixture of a white 


12 


- 68 


MEXICO, | 


CHAPTER man with a mulatto comes the cast of guarterons. Wher 





a female quarteron marries a European or creole, her son 
bears the name of guinteron. A. new alliance with a 
white banishes to such a degree the remains of colour, 
that the children of a white and female quinteron are white 
also. The casts of Indian or African blood. preserve the 
odour peculiar to the cutaneous transpiration. of those two 
primitive races. The Peruvian Indians, who, in the middle 
of the night, distinguish different races by their quick 


- sense of smell; have formed three words to express thé 


odour of the European, the American Indian, and the ne- ~ 
gro. In a country governed by whites, the families. re- 
puted to have the least mixture of negro or Indian blood-are 
also naturally the most honoured. The greater or less de- 
gree of whiteness of skin decides: the rank which. a man. 
occupies in. society. A white, who rides bare-footed on 
horseback, ‘thinks that he belongs to the- nobility of the 
country. Colour establishes even a certain equality among 


men, who, as is universally the case where civilization is 


either little advanced, or in a retrograde state, take a.par- 
ticular pleasure in dwelling on the prerogatives of race 
and’ origin. When a common man disputes with one of. 
the titled lords, he is frequently heard to say, ‘do you 
think me not so white as yourself ?” This may serve to cha- 
acterize the state and source of the actual aristocracy.”* 


Between the whites themselvés an: invidious distinction, 
caused by a wrong policy, has long subsisted. The na- 


* Humboldt, chep. 7, 


MEXICO. 


69 


tives of Europe, who are denominated by the natives of CHAPTER 


America chapetones and gachupines, are, on account of 
their unjust privileges, objects of envy to the creoles. “'The 
Spanish laws allow the same rites to all the white inhabi- 
tants; but those who are entrusted with the execution 
of the laws endeavour to destroy an equality which shocks 
the European pride. The government, suspicious of the 


creoles, bestows the great places exclusively on the natives ~ 


of Old Spain. For some years they have disposed‘ at Ma- 
drid even of the most trifling employments in the adminis¢ 
tration of the customs and the revenue of tobacco. At an 
epoch when every thing tended to a uniform relaxation in 
the springs of the State, the system of venality made an: 
alarming progress. For the most part it was by no means 
a suspicious and distrustful policy : it was pecuniary interest 
alone which bestowed all employments on Europeans. The: 
result has been a jealousy and perpetual hatred between 
the chapetons and creoles. The most miserable European; 
without education, thinks himself superior to the whites 
born in the New Continent. He knows that, protected: by 
his compatriots, and favoured’ by chances common enough: 
in a country where fortunes are as rapidly acquired’as they 
are lost, he may-one day reach places to which the access 
is almost interdicted to the natives, when even they are 
distinguished for their talents, knowledge, and moral qua- 
jities. 'The natives prefer the denomination of Americans 
to that of creoles, Since the peace of Versailles, and, in 
particular, since the year 1789, we frequently hear proudly 
declared, ‘1 am not a Spaniard; I am an American!’ 


words. which betray the workings of a long resentment,. 


70 


CHARCER 


MEXICO, 


In the eye of law every white creole is a Spaniard,”* but 


-a wrong system. of practice has.caused the distinction. Be- 


tween ‘the native whites of Spain and of Mexico scarcely 
any other difference worth notice is assignable, except that 
the latter are said to have made lately a greater progress in 
the knowledge of literature, notwithstanding strong en- 
deavours of the government to prevent them. 


The negroes of this country are so few as to be hardly 
worth notice. ‘‘ The kingdom of New Spain is, of all the 
European. colonies under the torrid zone, that in which 
there are the fewest negroes. We may almost say that 
there are no slaves. We may go through the whole city 
of Mexico without seeing a black countenance.” From 
exact’ information procured by the persons employed in the | 


_ numeration of 1793, it appears that in all New Spain, to 


the north of Guatimala, “there are not six thousand ne- 
groes, and not more than nine or ten thousand slaves, of 
whom the greatest number belong to the ports of Acapulco 
and Veracruz, or the warm regions of the coast. Of the 
seventy-four thousand negroes, annually furnished by 
Africa to the equinoxial regions of America and Asia, not 
above a hundred land on the coast of Mexico. The- 
slaves besides, fortunately in so small number, are here, 
as in all the other Spanish possessions, somewhat more 
under the protection of the laws than the negroes of | 
the other European colonies. A slave, who by his industry 


has procured. a little money, may compel his master to 


Humboldt, chap. 7. 


MEXICO, 


71 


give him his liberty on paying the moderate sum of from CHAPTER 


sixty-two to eighty-three pounds. Liberty cannot be re- 
fused to a negro on the pretext that he has cost the triple 
of the sum, or that he possesses a particular talent for some 
lucrative employment, A slave also who has been cruelly 
used, acquires, on that account, his freedom by the law, 
if the judge do justice to the cause of the oppressed : but it 
may be easily conceived, that this beneficent law must be 
frequenly ohadlel tg 


The doosigioals of this country, in corporeal qualities Abii 


and features, agree with the great mass of indigenous po- 
pulation throughout the American continent. “ The In- 
dians of New Spain bear a general resemblance to those 
who inhabit Canada, Florida, Peru, and Brazil. They 
have the same swarthy or copper colour, flat and smooth 
hair, coarse, dark, and so glossy as to seem to be in a con- 
stant state of humectation ; small beard ; squat body ; long 
eye with the corners directed upwards towards the temples ; 
prominent cheek bones ; thick lips; and an expression of 
gentleness in the mouth strongly contrasted with a gloomy 
and severe look. They have a more swarthy complexion 
- than the inhabitants of the warmest climates in South Ame. 
rica. They have also, particularly the tribes of the Aztec 
and Otomite race, generally more beard. Almost all the 
Indians in the neighbourhood of the capital wear small 
mustachios, and this is even a mark of the tributary cast, 

A great physical advantage is, that they are subject almost 


¥ Humboldt, chap. 7. 


cm 


CHAPTER 





. 


MEXICOs 


to no deformity. A hunch-backed Indian seems noi. to be 
discoverable ; and any who squint, or are lame in arm or 
leg, are extremely rare. When we examine savage hunters 
or warriors, we are tempted to believe that they are all 
well made, merely because those who have any natural 
deformity either perish: from fatigue or ‘are exposed by 
their parents; but the Mexican and Peruvian Indians, 


those of Quito and New Granada, are agriculturists, who 


can only be compared with the-class of European peasantry. 
We can have no doubt then, that the absence of natural 
deformities among them is the effect of their mode of life, 
and of the constitution peculiar to their race. -Accustomed 
to a uniform nourishment of almost entirely a vegetable na- 
ture, they would undoubtedly attain a very great longevity, 
if their constitutions were not weakened by drunkenness. 
In the temperate regions of Mexico, half up the cordillera; 
natives, especially women, of a hundred years of age, are 
by no means uncommon; and they are found also to re- 
tain their muscular strength to the last.”* The strength 
of those Indians, who are employed as porters in the mines 


is doubtless extraordinary. In a hot temperature of between 


seventy and eighty degrees of Fahrenheit, these remain 
loaded, each with a weight of from two hundred and forty- 


_two to three hundred and seventy-seven pounds, six hours 


every day, during which they ascend and descend several 
thousands of steps, in pits of such acclivity, that the angle 
of the inclined plain is only of forty-five degrees, the ascent 
of which is to Europeans, without any sort of burden, op- 
pressively fatiguing.t. 


* Humboldt, chap. 6. + Humboldt, chap. 11. 


MEXICO. 


73 


_ The languages of the aboriginals are various, and many CHAPTER 


pe them radically. different one from another. The Maya - 


tongue, spoken in the northern parts of Yucatan, is remark- 
able for its extremely guttural pronunciation. The-Aztic, 
which is of all the most extensively diffused, and doubtless 
the most cultivated, is. not very smooth or sonorous, but 
copious and expressive. It is destitute of the sounds of the 
letters B,D, F, G, and R. It was. read from. right to left, 
and from bottom . to top.* it is remarkable for its final 
syllables, expressive of respect, occasionally added, and for 
containing many words inconveniently polysyllabic. Any 
word, by the addition of ziz or azin atthe end, becomes an 
expression of ‘veneration in the mouth of an inferior. Of 
the reverential affixes, and of the length of applications, 
the term notlazomahuiztespixcatatzin,. may serve as an in- 
' stance, which signifies venerable priest whom I cherish as 
my father. Many Indian families are found to bear Spanish 
names, the names of those masters among whom the abori- 
ginals were formerly distributed ;’ but: they seem to differ 
little in dress from their ancestors, since even those who 
boast themselves of noble blood go. generally bare-footed, 
and covered with a Mexican tunic of a coarse texture and 
of a. dark. brown hue. Concerning the mental qualities and 
natural disposition of a people so miserably degraded by 
Spanish tyranny very little can be known. Considering 
“ the Mexican Indian in his actual state,’ we perceive in 
him neither that mobility of sensation, gesture, or feature; 


nor that activity of minds for which: acer nations of the — 


* Humbold's Researches, vol, 2. Pe Lap. 


K 





— 


CHA — 





i ‘. . . ? : ’ t ~ 
equinoxial regions of Africa are so advantageously distin- 
guished. ‘There cannot exist a more marked contrast than 


_ that which is between the impetuous vivacity of the Con- 


goeze negro and the apparent phlegm of the Indian. The 
latter is grave, melancholic, and silent, so long as he is ‘not 
under the influence of intoxicating liquors. This gravity 
is particularly remarkable in the Indian children, who, at 
the age of four or five years, display muck more intelligence 
and maturity than white children. The Mexican loves to 
throw a mysterious air over the most indifferent actions. 


_ The most violent passions are never painted i in his features ; 


and there is something frightful in seeing him pass all at 
once from absolute repose to a state of violent and unres- 
traimed agitation. Themusic and dancing of this people 
partake of this want of gaiety by which they are character- 
ized. Their songs are terrific and melancholic. The wo- 
man shew more vivacity ; but they share the misfortunes of 


that servitude to which their sex is condemned among men 


whose: civilization is in its infancy.” 


As the Mexican Indians are almost all of the class of 
peasantry, or of a similarly low condition, to judge of their 
aptitude for the arts which embellish life is not very easy. 
No men of any race appear more destitute of imagination. 
«¢ When an Indian attains a certain degree of civilization, he 
displays .a great facility of apprehension, a judicious mind, 
a natural logic, and a particular disposition ‘to subtilize, or 
seize the finest differences in the comparison of ‘objeéts: 
He reasons coolly and orderly, but he never manifests that 
versatility of i imagination, that glow of sentiment, and that 


co 


MEXICO. 


creative and animating art, which characterize the nations 
of the south of Europe, and several tribes of African ne- 
groes.” . To rise however to any considerable degree in the 


scale of) society must be the lot of. extremely few. ‘‘ How 
can any great change take place among them, when they . 


are kept insulated in villages, in which the whites dare not 
settle; when the difference of language places an almost 
insurmountable barrier between them and.the Europeans ; 
when they are oppressed by magistrates chosen from poli-. 
tical considerations from their own number ; and, in short, 
when they can only expect moral and. civil improvement 
from their priest, a man who talks to them of mysteries, 
dogmas, and ceremonies, of | the end of, which they are 
ignorant! yi 


ve duaiisiaallad to a long slavery, the natives of Mexico 
patiently suffer the vexations to which. they are frequently 
exposed from. the whites.. They oppose to them only a 
cunning, veiled under the most deceitful appearances of 
apathy and stupidity. As the Indian can very rarely revenge 
himself on the Spaniards, he delights in making a common 
cause with them for the oppression of his own compa; 
iriots.. Harassed for ages, and compelled to a blind obe- 
dience, he wishes. to tyrannize in. his tura. Oppression 
every where produces, the same effects. It every where 
corrupts the morals. ‘‘ Among the vices of a degraded race 


that of drunkenness may be well expected. “ This is most — 


common among those Indians who inhabit. the valley of 

Mexico and the environs of Puebla and Tlascala, wherever 

the agave is cultivated on a great scale. ‘The police i in the 
k 2 


75 


CHA Pree 





/ 


76 
CHAPTER 


we © 
(ON ao ene 


MEXICOy 


city of Mexico sends round tumbrils to collect such drunk- 
ards as ‘may be found stretched in the streets. ‘These 
are carried to the principal guard‘house. In the morn- 
ing iron rings are put round their ancles, and ‘they are 
obliged to clean’ the ‘streets during three days. They are: 
dismissed on the fourth ; but many of them are apt to be 
found again in the course of ‘the week.” | Little energy 
ean have place ‘among ‘people so debased. When any 
appears, it degenerates into harshness. © This is displayed 
chiefly « by the inhabitants of Tlascala. Amid their present 
degradation, the descendants of those ‘republicans are still 
to be distinguished by a certain haughtiness of character, 
inspired by the memory of the ancient grandeur of their 
state.” In their degenerate condition the ‘* Mexicans have 
still preserved a particular relish for painting, and for the 
art of carving in wood or stone. We are astonished at 
what they are able ‘to execute with a bad knife on the 
hardest wood. In painting they display great aptitude in 
the arts of imitation, and much greater still for the purely 
mechanical arts. ‘This cannot fail of becoming some day 
very ‘valuable, when’ the manufactures shall take their 
flight ‘to a country where a regenerating government re- 
mains yet to be ereated.“* They have also preserved an 


extraordinary taste for flowers, ‘with a fresh collection 


of which ‘their traders ornament their shops, or places of 
— pet = 


The account given above relates only to the aboriginals 
ir: war to the Y eae Government. - Concerning the few, 


* Chap. 6. 


MEXICO. 


77 


who still retain their independence in separated tracts, no- CHARTERS 


thing further ‘is known than that they are savages like the 
wild tribes of ‘North America, except:a particular clan on 
the coast of Honduras, denominated Musquitoes. | This’ 
little nation, which cannot muster more than fifteen hun- 
dred, orat most two thousand men able to bear arms, has 
an accidental tincture of negro blood, from the wreck of a 
ship carrying African slaves, of whom several females 
escaped to land. Detesting the Spaniards, from whose set- 
tlements they are separated by a ridge of lofty mountains, 
a part of the Andes, they have long maintained an alliance 


with the English, and have among them a tradition, that 


the people with grey eyes are to be their protectors from 


slavery. From this connexion, they, have acquired a com: _ 


paratively considerable degree of civilization ; though both 
sexes in general wear no other clothing than a small kind 
of wrapper, which reaches from the lower part.of the waist 
to the middle of the thigh : but, on extraordinary occasions, 
their chiefs appear clothed in British regimentals, and bear 
titles of military commissions. ‘Their government is a mo- 
narchy absolute and strictly hereditary. By their superior 
- state of polity they keep under tribute, which is paid annu- 
ally in cattle, two contiguous tribes, the Poyers and Towcas, 


each more numerous than themselves, and accounted also | 


braver. They appear to possess a state of happiness supe- 
rior to that of most aboriginal Mexicans, and enjoy a plenty 
of food: but, from the nature of their coast, which admits 
no vessels of any considerable size, nor indeed even small 
craft without danger, they have very little commerce.* The 


* Henderson, p. 177—191. 





fe MEXICO. 


CHAPTER Bnglieh settlement in Yucatan has been sometimes an- 
mas noyed by predatory bands of savages, who issued from 
unknown recesses in the forests. These made their ap- 

pearance in a state of total nudity, and with a most ferocious 
disposition. ‘They were armed with bows of a curious 
workmanship, the arrows of. nah were — to be 

vgtong es | is 

English settle. ~The only prop settlement, except those of the Spa- 
Bes niards, which is retained in the Mexican regions, is that of 
the English, in the bay of Honduras, on the coast of Yuca- 

tan, formed solely for the cutting and exportation of maho- 

gany and logwood. This settlement is small, computed to 

contain, in the beginning of the nmeteenth century, only 

about two hundred white people, five hundred of a mixed 

breed and free negroes, and three thousand negro slaves. 

The last are considered'as so attached to their masters, 

from a humane treatment, as traly politic as it is uncom- 

- mon, that they are all entrusted with the use of arms, and are 
excellent marksmen. On this depends, in no sinall part, the 

safety of the colony, which is so parted from the Spanish posts 

by swamps and impenetrable woods, as to be exposed to an 

attack only from the sea. By a shameful concession of the 

British cabinet, in a treaty concluded in 1763, the fortifica- 

tions were demolished, and the colonists put under the 
protection of the King of Spain, who pledged his faith that, 

in case of war, they should be allowed six months, after 

notice, for the removal of their persons and effects. This 

promise was as shamefully violated in 1779, when, without 


* Henderson, p. 18. - 


MEXICO. 


79 


the least previous notice, their properties were seized, and CHAPTER 


their persons transported to Cuba, imprisoned, and treated 
otherwise with cruelty. Restored to their possessions in 
1784, by a new convention, they took more effectual mea- 

sures for defence, insomuch that they repelled a formidable 
invading force in 1798. Their dwellings are seated on the 
banks of rivers, down which the timber is floated to the 
place of embarcation. The chief of these rivers is the 
Balize, which is navigable through a space of two hundred 


miles, for all the purposes required by the settlers. At its. 


mouth stands the town of Balize, the only regular esta- 
blishment, quite open to the sea, and consisting of about 
two hundred houses of all descriptions. These are built 
entirely of wood, generally raised eight or ten feet from the 
ground on pillars of mahogany, mostly covered with shin- 
gles, but some still thatched with the leaves of the pal- 


metto.* 


* Henderson. 








anil 
ry 


if Ve 


; a 
toting 
hiahio 
hei 





f 


CHAPTER Ii. 








NEW MEXICO. 


Site—Division—Coast—Face—Waters—Air—Products— 
Antiquities—Inhabitants— Towns. 


A reaion of great, but as yet undefined extent, is here CHAPTER 


conceived to occupy all that vast. space which lies between 
Louisiana, the Californian gulf, the Pacific ocean, North- 
western America, and, Old Mexico or New Spain. From 
the last we consider it as parted only by an imaginary line 
drawn from the northwestern angle of the gulf of Mexico 
to the most southern part of the gulf of California. Except 
where the latter gulf aud the ocean bound it, its limits are 
elsewhere quite uncertain. On the side of northwestern 
America we cannot even conjecure where the wilds of the 
two regions mutually terminate. . On the side of Louisiana 
the position of the bounding line depends on future events. 
The Spaniards, to whom New Mexico has hitherto be- 
longed, consider this country as extending as far to the east 


as the river Mermentas or Mexicana, which flows into the - 


L 


Site. 





“82 


CHAPTER 
II. 


Division, 


Coast. 


Face. 


NEW MEXICO, 


gulf of Mexico to theeast of theriver Sabina; whilethe angto- 
Americans, in possession of Louisiana, would contract the 
Spanish dominion within the great river called Rio Bravo 
del Norte, willing to extend their own settlements so far 
westward as that stream.. Taken in the sense noted above, . 
New’ Mexico contains great part of what are called the 
intendancies of San Luis de Potosi and Durango or New 
Biscay, together with those of New Mexico properly so 
called, New California, or, as it was denominated by the 
famous Drake, New Albion, and Sonora, including Cin- 
aloa. These intendancies or governments, subordinate to 
the viceroyalty of Old Mexico, are considered as subdi- 
vided into a number of inferior provinces or territories, the 
limits of which are not permanently settled and a catalogue 
of whose names seems hardly worth attention. 


The coasts of this country have not been well explored : 
at least no accurate accounts of. them have been received. 
That which is washed by the gulf of California doubtless 
presents many receptaclesfor shipping, butfew of them are no- 
ticed or named, and none described. ‘That which is washed 
by the Pacific ocean has several ports which séem to be 
good. One, that of San Francisco, has been noted as ex- 
cellent. In its coast on the side of the gulf of Mexico, the 
extent of which coast is as uncertain as the eastern limit of 
this region, no harbour has been found, except for small 
vessels which can swim in shallow water. From the coasts 
the Jand rises north-eastward and north-westward to the 


interior country, the middle parts of which consist of moun- 


tainous tracts and high table-ground. This table-ground 


NEW MEXICO. 


is a continuation of that of Old Mexico, which advances, 
though with inferior height, northward through this region, 
yet rising higher in approaching the north, and attaining its 
greatest elevation in the mountains of Sierra Verde, about 
the fortieth degree of latitude, the ridges of which extend still 
further toward the north. ‘To the east and west of the, ele- 
vated interior country the lands are generally low, but 
much more on the eastern side, where are plains of -vast ex- 
tent. Great part of these plains are what are called Savan- 
nahs, destitute of trees, but covered with various grasses. 
Of such consists all the eastern part of the country next 
Louisiana, a vast extent from north to south, which termi- 
nates southward in impassible marshes. Although the 
‘country along the Californian gulf is low, it is diversified 
with hills, which increase in number and elevation as they 
recede from the coast. New Albion presents a different 
face, traversed from north to south, at no great distance 
from its shores, by a continuation of that vast ridge of 
mountains which extends along the coast of North-westerri 
America. 'The’scenery ‘throughout the vast region of New 
Mexico is almost as wild, as the country is uninhabited ex- 
cept in scattered spots. As the land is generally fertile, 
and the sky serene, the prospect is mostly pleasing, but 
some tracts are arid, and by nature barren. Thus a desart, 
destitute of water, extends about ninety miles between the 
intendancies of Durango and’ New Mexico properly so 
called, and thus also the northern part of Sonora is sans 


and dry.* 


* Humboldt’s New Spain, vol. 2, she 8. —Vancourers Voyage, vol, 4, 


chap, 8, &¢. 
L2 


CHAPTER 


84 


CHAPTER 
» UL: 





, Waters. 


Air. 


NEW MEXICO. 


Concerning the lakes and rivers of this as yet imperfectly 
explored region we have little to say. Of the former we 
have no certain account. Two have. been noticed in the 
western parts, a salt lake about the thirty-ninth degree of 
latitude, the western limits of which are unknown, and the 
lake of Timpanogos, about the forty-first degree, of great 


but umascertained extent. The chief of the rivers is. that 


which is named by the Spaniards Rio Bravo, Rio Grandedel 
Norte, the great river of the North, which, from its source in — 


- the Sierra Verde, runs above a thousand miles to its influx 


into the culf of Mexico, with a very muddy stream, a stream, 
which, ‘froin the melting of the snow, begins to swell in 
April, attains its greatest height in the beginning of May, 
and sinks again toward the end of June. The Rio Colo- 
rado, springing from the same chain of mountains, flows 
south-westward above six hundred miles to the northern — 
angle of the Californian gulf. Another Rio Colorado, dis- 
tinguished by the epithet of de Texas, is one of the many 
streams which flow southward into the gulf of Mexico. 
The Rio Gila has a westerly course to the angle of the 


Californian gulf into which the Colorado makes its influx. 


A scantiness of streams of water and of rain seems the 
chief inconvenience. of this otherwise in general very fine 
country. ‘The season of rains appears to be from Decem- 
ber to. March.. Little falls in the other. months, particularly 
in the autumnal, in which. a dry season seems mostly to 
prevail. Heavy dews supply in some degree the deficiency 
of rain, and in New Albion at least a haze, or kind of fog, 
which very frequently obscures the sky, promotes by its 


\ 


NEW MEXICO, 


moisture vegetation. The temperature must vary with the 
circumstances of the land, particularly its height above the 
ocean’s level. In the low lands of New Albion the weather 
is so mild that the inhabitants enjoy a perpetual spring, at 
least a8 far as the thirty-sixth degree of latitude ;’ while i in 


the elevated table-grounds of the province of New Mexico ™ 


properly so called, the winter is so severe, that the Rio del 
Norte, at the thirty-seventh degree, is sometimes, for a suc- 
cession of years, frozen so hard as to admit the passage 
over it of horses and carriages. Even in the low lands in 
the eastern parts, although the heat is violent in summer, 
the cold of winter is rendered severe by sharp winds from 
the north. The sky throughout the whole is in general 
serene, little troubled by storms: or violent’ changes of 
weather, and the air is accounted mmiointtonl ¥ salubrious 
to the human constitution.* 


Among the indigenous vegetables of this country, spon- 
taneously produced, are oak, cherrytree, and many other 
species of timber, gooseberries, raspberries, currants, and 
_ various other berries, roses, wild peas, and wild vines, which 
bear a sour kind of grape. The grain, fruits, and roots of 
Europe, so far as they have been imported and tried, thrive 
excellently in its fertile soil. 'Thussn New Albion, wheat 
sown without manure, and cultivated in a very clumsy man- 


ner, yields thirty, or at least twenty-five fold.t European’ 
quadrupeds have also been introduced and thrive well, par- 


. 


* Humboldt, book 3, chap, 8.—Vancouver’s Voyage, in various places, 
+ Vancouver, book 3, chap. 1. — 


85 


CHAPTER 
IL. 





Produets. 


36. 


CHAPTER 
Il. 





Antiquities. 


NEW MEXICO. 
ticularly horses. Among the indigenous animals is a kind 
of wild goat, or chamois on the mountains, and also a gi- 
gantic and beautiful stag, of a brown colour, smooth, and 
destitute of spots, the branches of whose horns are near 
four feet.and a half in length. These, which are very 
numerous in the plains, are frequently taken by the Spanish 
colonists on horseback with nooses, or are shot by the na- 


tives, who approach them by the stratagem of putting stags’ 


heads over their own, and concealing their bodies in brush- 
wood or long herbage.* In products of the fossil kind this 
country, so far as trials have been made, may be accounted 
rich. Gold is found in great quantities in the province of 
Sonora, particularly in the hilly tract named Pimeria-alta, 
and might be found in still greater, if searchers were not 


deterred by the incursions of warlike savages. This metal 


is obtained by washing away sand or earth in the ravines 
and alluvious ground. Pieces of pure gold called pepitas 


_ have been thus procured of the weight of from five to six 


pounds.+ 


Of the history of this country we have no certain infor- 


‘mation previously to the arrival of the Spaniards, who 


began to plant some small colonies in it soon atter their 
conquest of Old Mexico ; but that some parts of it were 
once inhabited by a people advanced above savage life to 
some’ degree of civilization, monuments still extant shew. 
The chief of these monuments is found in a vast and beau- 
tiful plain, which lies one league from the southern’ bank of 


* Humboldt, book 3, chap. 8 + Idem, book 4, chap. 11. 


NEW MEXICO. 


87 


the Rio Gila, where stand the ruins of an ancient city, sup- CHAPTER 


posed to have been inhabited by the Aztecs in their progress 
toward the south. In the middle of these ruins, which 
occupy more than a square league, is seen the remnant of 
anedifice called casa grande, four hundred and forty-five 
feet long, two hundred and seventy-six broad, with walls 
almost four feet thick, built of great blocks of clay, pre- 
viously rammed into cases, and thus rendered hard and: 


durable. This ancient structure, the four sides of which 


face exactly the four cardinal points, is observed to have 
had three stories, a terrace, and stairs outside, probably of 
wood, as is at present the fashion of some independent 
tribes of natives of this country, and three apartments, each 
above twenty-seven feet long, almost eleven broad, and 


near twelve in height. The plain around is in great part 


covered with broken pitchers and pots of earthenware, pret- 
tily painted | in white, red, and blue, intermixed with pieces 
of obsidian, used in cutting instruments.* Whether art had 
any share in the production of a very curious object, near 
the river Monterry in New Albion, seems a little doubtful. 
Here the side of a hill or mountain is so excavated as to 
exhibit the appearance of a vast and sumptuous building 
in a state of decay, the roof of which is the top of the hill, 
supported by columns of great magnitude, elegantly formed, 
and: rising canslendicilnaly with the most minute mathe- 
matical exactness. + 


The inhabitants of this country, as yet extremely few in 
proportion to its vast extent, consist mostly of Spanish co- 


* Humboldt, book 3, chap. 8. t+ Vancouver, book 6, chap, 2. 





Inhabitants. 


\ 


838 


CHAPTER 
Il. 


| NEW MEXICO,’ 


4 


lonists and indigenous tribes. The former dwell in towns 
and scattered settlements at great distances asunder. Of 
the settlements some are:presidios, which are only garrisons: 
with a few soldiers in each, for defence against the hostili- 
ties of the independent natives. Others are called missions, 

in each of which a few monks are stationed for the purpose 
of endeavouring to convert | and civilize the wild tribes -in 
their neighbourhood. Their success appears to have been 
hitherto only partial and slow. The colonists who are most 
exposed to the attacks of the savages are said, from their 
habits of vigilance and activity, to be superior in the ener- 
gies both of body and mind to all other people of Spanish 
descent in the American regions. The indigenous people 
consist of various tribes, some agricultural and pacific, some 
pastoral, and some venatic and quite savage. The indi- 
eenous who inhabit the plains to the south of the Rio Gila, 
and have had no intercourse with the Spanish colonists, 
were found clothed and considerably civilized, peaceable, 
collected in villages, and cultivating the soil with maize, 


_ cotton, and gourds. _ Also to the north of the Gila, between 


it and the Colorado, dwell settled people called Moqui In- 
dians, among whom was found a town with regular streets 
parallel to one another, two great squares, and houses of 
several stories, built in the manner of the casas grandes, 
one of which I have mentioned under the head of antiqui- 
ties, several tribes of the indigenous, particularly of the 
people called Apaches, dwell in fixed habitations, in a state 


' . of peace with the colonists. The pastoral and venatic tribes 


are not clearly distinguished. They are both erratic, deno- 
minated by the Spaniards. Indios braves, and implacable 


~ 


NEW MEXICO, 


enemies to the Spanish race. They inhabit chiefly the cHAPTER — 


89 


extensive wilds of the north and east. The.tribes of the ———— 


Cumanches are uncommonly formidable. These have 
learned to tame the horses of Spanish breed, which run 
wild in the Savannahs, and are said to be exceeded by no 
people whatsoever in the agility of horsemanship. They 
lodge in tents of buffaloes’ hides,. which are. carried from 


place to place on the backs of great dogs, by which they are _ 


accompanied,* . The savages in the southern parts of New 
Albion are so excessively stupid and lazy, that, not without 
the utmost difficulty, have. the monks, established inthe 
several missions, been able to induce a few to adopt a life 
of industry and civilization. 


- We find no towns of great magnitude in New Mexico, 
since the country is as yet very thinly colonized. The most 
populous noted in a survey of it is Culiacan in Sonora, 
which is estimated tocontain almost eleven thousand souls. 
~The numbers in the other towns are rated at from three or 


four to near ten thousand. ‘To Santa Fe, the capital of the. 


province properly called New Mexico, not more than three 
thousand six hundred persons are attributed. In New.,Al- 
bion we find only villages, inhabited by such indigenous 
people as the missionaries have been able to persuade to 
dwell thus together under their inspection, and to cultivate 
the soil. Far the greatest of these, when an account was 
procured of them, contained about thirteen hundred peavey 
of all ages, under the name of Santaclara.. . 


# Humboldt, book 2, chap. 6, book 3, chap. 8. 


M 


Towns. 


CHAPTER 
II. 


CALIFORNIA, 


A 'Pentnsuta, stretching southeastward from the main 
land of New Mexico, between the Pacific ocean and the 
Californian gulf, or Vermillion sea, displays on both 
its coasts, more especially the eastern, mostly high and. 
rocky shores bordered with many islands, and broken by 
many bays, ‘some of them spacious, which afford in various 
degrees accommodation for ships. It is. divided longitu- 
dinally throughout by a chain of mountains, the most ele- 
vated of which, called Cerro de la Giganta, rises to the 
height of near ‘five thousand feet above the surface of the 
ocean. This and some other mountains appear to have 
had a voleanic origin. Not only these mountains, but the 
plains also at each side, more especially the western, pre- 
sent ‘a naked arid dreary ‘prospeet, arid, bare, and barren, 
séldom ‘refreshed ‘with rain, and little moistend by springs 
or ‘streams of water. Generally where springs are found 
the ‘surface of ‘the earth consists of sand or barren rock, 
which ‘receives ‘no ‘benefit from irrigation : but i spots, 
comparatively few, where springs and vegetative soil con- 
eur, the fertility is'‘prodigious. The beauties of this country 
are displayed by its atmosphere, not by its land. “The 
sky is constantly serene, and of a deep blue, and without 2 
cloud ; and should any clouds appear for a moment at the 
setting of ‘the sun, they display the most beautiful shades 


CALIFORNIA; . oT 


of violet, purple and green. Ali those who have ever CHAPTER 
been in California preserved the recollection of the extra- ee sn 
ordinary beauty of this phenomenon, which depends on a 

particular state of the vesicular. Paponty and the purity of 

the air in these climates.”*  — 


In so arid a region the vegetable products: must be ex- 
pected to be scanty. The land is almost destitute of trees; 
yet amid the sand and stones at the foot of the mountains 
some species of the cactus rise to extraordinary heights. 
The vine, where ‘cultivated, yields an excellent grape, the 
wine of which resembles that of the Canary islands. We 
can easily. conceive from the climate of California what 
vegetables it might yield where soil and water are procured, 
but the chief object of culture appears to be maize. Among 
the indigenous quadrupeds is a wild animal.on the moun- 
tains whichiresembles the mouflom of Sardinia, having horns 
‘* curved on themselves in a spiral form,” and leaping, like 
the ibex, with the head dowaward. .The gulf of Califor- 
nia along its coast is more productive than the land, yield- 
ing pearls ofa very beautiful water and,large size, but often 
of an irregular. shape, disagreeable: to, the, eye, They 
abound much: more:in the southern than, in the northern — 
parts: of the gulf, particularly in, the bay of Ceralvo,.and 
around the ‘islands of Santa Cruz and. San) Jose. . This 
branch of industry. however has been.of late years so, ne- 

glected, os it is considered as. aohein or eager 

abandoned. aval sg ecwniebi sid, Livny 


| _, Humboldt, book 3, chap. co 
n 2 


92 


CALIFORNIA: 


CHAPTER | California was discovered in 1534, by Hernando de Grix- 





alva, in the employment of Cortes, the conqueror of Mex- 
ico, who visited in person the country in the following 


year, and afterwards commissioned, for the completion 


of the survey, Francisco de Ulloa, who ascertained this 
region to be a peninsula. In 1683, the Jesuits began to 


establish missions for the conversion of the natives,.and 


“ displayed there that commercial industry, and that acti- 
vity, to which they are indebted for so many. successes, and 
which have exposed them to so many calumnies in both 
Indies.” In the middle of the eighteenth century their af- 
fairs were prosperous., They had in very few years built 
sixteen villages in the interior of the peninsula, and their 
settlements were become considerable. | Since their expul- 
sion in 1767, the Spanish government has confided. Califor- 


nia to the Dominican monks of the city of Mexico, under 
- whom the state of affairs seems much altered for the worse.: 


‘ ° California is so thinly peopled as to be almost a desart. 


Its length is about seven hundred miles. ‘Its unascertained 
breadth may be’ on an average nearly one hundred. Its 
area may thus contain near sixty millions of English acres, 
or may be ‘nearly three times as great as that of Ireland. 
The number of people in‘ all this extent of territory seems 
not to exceed ‘nine thousand. ‘ The Spaniards are few, con- 
sisting only of some’ soldiers and monks. The indigenous 
people, who are so far reclaimed from a savage life as to 
dwell in fixed habitations and cultivate the soil, are reckoned 
only at between four and five thousand. Of those who still 
remain savage the number is said scarcely to-amount to. 


CALIFORNIA, 


98 


four thousand. The country was formerly far less thinly CHAPTER 


inhabited, but a great depopulation, within thirty or forty 
years past, has been caused by the small pox, and perhaps 
by political defects, of which we are not informed. No 
towns can have place where people, are so’'few. The chief 
mission or village is that of Loreto. Those indigenous 
Californians, who still remain in a savage state, are descri- 
bed as among the very lowest in the scale of civilization, 
wandering about in a state of absolute nudity in search of 


precarious food, exposed without the shelter of a roof to all 
the vicissitudes of the atmosphere, and destitute of other: 


religion than the dread of invisible malignant beings, whose 
malice they deprecate, They are rather of a small and 
_ feeble frame, with little vigour of spirit, and.of a very dark 
complexion, approaching to. black. They entertain such 


a contempt of clothing, that a man in clothes appears more, 
ridiculous to them than a monkey with garments to the, 


common people of Europe.* 


* Humboldt, book 3, chap. 8.—Account of California by Venegas, &c. 





———— >, 


aes 


aber 
eee aes 


<a 
ye 





CHAPTER IIf. 








NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


Site—Coast—Face—Waters— Temperature—Vegetables 
= Animals— Fossils — History— Commerce —Inhabitants— 
Eskeemoes—Occidentals—Person—- Habits —Language— 
- Houses—Life—Manners—Interior Aboriginals—-Persons 


—-Habits—-Language— Habitations— Food—-Religion—_ 


Government — Tribes—-Depopulation—Life—-Manners— 
Customs—Arts. , 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA, 


Here considered, for geographical convenience, as that 
immense continuous portion of the northern peninsula of 
the new continent which remains as yet uncolonized by 
Europeans, and free from the dominion of any civilized 
nation, consists of the whole extent of territory which lies 


between the gulf or sea of Hudson, .the Pacific ocean, the — 
Arctic ocean or Icy sea, and the boundaries of Canada and 


New Mexico. These boundaries indeed are not as yet per- 
manently settled, nor can we at present form a rational con- 


jecture how soon such alterations shall have been made, by — 


the planting of colonies, as may render a new geographical 


95 


CHAPTER 
Tif, 


Site, 


96: 
CHAPTER 


Wt . 


Coast, 


Face. : 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. | 


account of this vast region necessary. The eastern coast of 
this immense tract, except along the seas of Hudson and 
Davis, where it isin general rocky and steep, though af- 
fording many receptacles for shipping, is quite unknown. 
The same is the case with the whole of the northern. The 
western, parted from Tartary by Beering’s strait, is bordered — 
in an extraordinary manner by innumerable islands, is in- 
dented by numerous inlets, which form harbours various in 
magnitude and quality, and consists in great proportion of 
high table-ground, which constitutes part of the base of an 
immense chain of mountains. Of the various projections of 
the land that which runs farthest into the Pacific is the 
peninsula of Alaska. Of the multitude of inlets, that which 
penetrates nearest to the great inland, waters is Lynn chan- 
nel, near the latitude of fifty-nine, which advances within 
three hundred and seventy English miles of the great Atha- 
baska or Slave lake, from which, however, it is separated 
by a vast chain of mountains. Of the masses of rock, vari- 
ous in size .and figure, which, along this extensive coast, 
repel or break the waves of the ocean, some display to ma- 
riners a romantic appearance. Of these, one, resembling a 
ship under sail, stands insulated near the middle of a chan- 
nel, beyond the fifty-fifth degree of latitude, above two 
hundred and fifty‘ feet in perpendicular height.* 


* © - Ff ° . - ery eT 
This immense region, so far as information concerning it 
has been collected, consists in general of wide-spread plains, 


* Vancouver’s Voyage round the World, 8vo, London, 1801, vol. 4, 
p- 160.-—-For the coast in general, see various parts of the 4th, 5th and 6th 
volumes ; also Cooke’s 3d Voyage, Perouse, &c. 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA: 


which gradually rise to a great elevation in the interior, 


97 


CHAPTER 
Itt. 


and are traversed in the western parts by a prodigious chain. —-——— 


of mountains,.and elsewhere, more especially, in the southern 
parts, by some ridges of. inferior magnitude. _The western 


chain, apparently connected:with the Andes of South Ame-_ 


rica, may perhaps be justly denominated the Andes of the 
North, though by travellers it has been named the Shining: 
and the Stony mountains, from the! appearances displayed 
by it in several places, In its progress northward,.this vast 
ridge elevates its peaks to a stupendous height, and takes a 
north-westerly direction, parellel to the coast of the Pacific, 
from which ocean its range of summits,- cased with perpe- 
tual ice and:snow, is visible to mariners, through a far ex- 
tended course of navigation, and to which some lateral 
chains, and branches extending from the main ridge, make, 
in several places, a near approach. It presents to the eyea 
grand and magnificent prospect, but cold and savage, of 
snow, glaciers, and naked. rocks, rugged, -precipitous; and 
stupeudously high.: Between the river Columbia and Cook’s 
inlet it attains its greatest elevation and greatest breadth, a 
breadth of from about two hundred and: sixty. to: between 
three and four hundred miles, and is bordered along the 
eastern skirts by a narrow and uneven strip of quite marshy 
or boggy ground., Pursuing: still @ north-westerly course, 


but, froma Cook’s inlet, with apparently diminished size, it — 


terminates at length, about the et st of a 
tude in the Arctic ocean.* ay | 


* Mackenzie’s Travels, 4to. ana: itor, p. 401—402, —Vancourer, 
vol, 6, p. 27, 411, &c. &e, . 
N 


98 


“CHAPTER _ 
III. 


1 ee 


\ 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICAc 


A ridge of much inferior height, but of prodigious lengtlr, 
extends from Labrador, between the waters of Hudson’s 
gulf and those of the Saint Lawrence river, in a nearly 
sais westerly course, to the sources of the river Utawas. 

Thence it turns north-westward to the longitude of eighty- 
nine degrees and the latitude of fifty, where it forks, and 
sends a branch to the south-west, while-the main ridge 
pursues a north-westerly direction, to the north of lake 
Winnipig, whence it winds westward between the rivers 
Beaver and Saskatshawin, till it strikes a long ridge which 
stretches north eastward. ~The latter, parting the waters 
which fall into Hudson’s gulf from those which flow to. the 

Arctic ocean, takes a direction almost to the north beyond 
the latitude of fifty-seven, and throws a branch to the west, 
which terminates at Mackenzie’s river. 


That part of this vast region, which lies between the 
Andes of the North and the. Pacific ocean, is mostly moun= 
tainous and ruggid.’ To the east of this chain vast plains 
expand, widening as they advance toward the east and south. 
The northern parts which stretch; eastward from these 
mountains, dreary, cold, and inhospitable, destitute of trees, 
except some dwarfish kinds, abounding in rocks and water, 
and shelving to the Icy sea, bear a strong resemblance to 
the Asiatic region of Siberia. . Even farther toward the 
south the Savannahs, or grassy plains, are considerably 
like the Tartarian Steppes, or desarts of Northern. Asia ; 
while the Northern Andes, in respect of position, may bear 
some similitude to the Uralian chain. In the southern 
parts the wild scenery, the only kind which can have place | 


NORTHWESTERN- AMERICA, 


in regions void of culture, has been found highly beautiful. . 


A celebrated traveller enjoyed in September “a most ex- 
tensive romantic, and ravishing prospect ;” and again he 
thus speaks of what he saw in May.* ‘“ This magnificent 
theatre of nature has all the decorations which the trees and 
animals of the country can offord it. Groves of poplars in 


every shape vary the scene, and their intervals are enlivened 


with vast herds of élks and ‘buffaloes ; the former choosing 
the steeps and uplands; the latter the plains. The whole 
country displayed an exuberant verdure. The trees which 
bear a blossom were advancing fast to that delightful appear- 


ance; and the velvet rind of their branches, reflecting the» 
oblique rays of a rising or setting sun, added a splendid . 
gaiety to the scene which no expressions of mine are quali- : 


fied to deseribe.” 


Beside the vast lakes and rivers of the immense northern 
peninstila’ of America already noted in the general view, 
many of no inconsiderable magnitude belong to this north- 
western region, © ‘of which however very Sinn are more than 
very partially known to Europeans. To attempt to describe 
them would as yet be premature. Such is their number 
and communication, that canoes can be navigated in all di- 


rections, through thousands of miles, except short inter- ° 


ruptions at places called portages, where, on account of 
cataracts, or other impediments, the canoe and its cargo 
must be carried from one navigable part of the channel to 


* Mackenzie, p. 155 —Sce also Lewis and Clarke’s Travels, ‘Ato, Lon- 


don, 1814, p. 40, 52, 390, 556, &c. 
n2 


* 


99 


CHAPTER 
wed. sig 





Waters. 


100 


CHAPTER © 


III, 


| Rs 


Temperature: 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


another, or from one river to another. Among the streams. 
which run eastward is the Saskatchawin, which, arising 
from the northern Andes, falls into the great lake of Win- 
nipig, whence it issues, under the name of Nelson river, 
and disembogues into the gulf of Labrador, after a course of 
about a thousand miles, _ Among those which flow north- 
ward is the Unjiga or Peace river, which, originating from 
a western lateral chain of thee Andes, and making its way 
the vast bason absurdly ee the Slave lake, from the 
western angle of which it makes its egress, and pursues its 
course, a course in all of about seventeen hundred miles, to 
the arctic ocean, under the denomination of Mackenzie’s 


' river. »Among those which run to the Pacific ocean is the 


Columbia, called also the Oregan and Tatoutche-Tessi, 
which is said by late travellers* to be navigable by large 
sloops through a hundred and eighty miles above its mouth, 
and by ships. of three,hundred tuns through a length of a. 
hundred and twenty-five miles. That which has been deno- 
minated Cook’s river has been found by Vancouver to be 
only an inlet of ae Pacific, above two hundred miles 1 in 


length. . 


epost to the northerly and northwesterly winds, which 
blow with imconceivable keenness from the ice of the Arctic 
ocean, all the northern parts of this immense region, which , 
lie to the east of the Northern Andes, sustain, the utmost 
rigours of intense cold, in the same manner as Siberia. 


* Lewis and Clarke’s Travels, 8vo. London, 1809, p. 19% 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


i 


The earth continues frozen throughout. the whole: year, 
except that in the heats of summer it is thawed to the 
depth of from two to four feet. The season of these heats, 
which are indeed intense, is only of about. four or five 
weeks’ duration; but even then the changes from heat to 
cold are great and sudden.* ‘To the south of‘ the long 
ridge, which extends from Labrador southward and west- 
ward, where warm winds from the gulf of Mexico operate 
on that part of the atmosphere, the temperature is milder, 
and is found warmer in proportion to the advance of the 
country southward. In the long tract. contained between 
the Northern Andes and the Pacific ‘ocean the air is vastly: 
less cold than in the parts between the same parallels to the 
east of these mountains.+ This appears to be the effect of 
oceanic winds, from whose influence the tracts lying east- 
ward of the Northern Andes are screened’ by’ this huge 
barrier ; while. by the same, in its north-westerly direction, 
the piercing winds from'the Icey sea, may be,| in great mea- 
sure, confined to the more eastern regions. 3 


The indigenous vegetables, spontaneously produced, in 
this immense uncultivated portion of the globe, are in great 
variety, varied with the temperature of the air, the nature 


of the soil, the aspect of the ground, and other circum- © 


stances; but the species as yet distinguised by the researches 
of Europeans aré comparatively very few. ‘Toward the icy 
shores of the north vegetation gradually languishes, ending 


* Volney’s View of the United States of America, 8v0, London, 1814, 
+ Cook’s Third Voyage, book 4, chap. 2, 


10} 


CHAPTER 
II, 


Vegetables. 


102 


CHAPTER 
| Se 


- NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


in stunted and straggling pines, junipers, and moss, and 
leaving little beside naked rocks and water to the view of 
the traveller. Southward the herbage gradually augments, 
and the trees encrease in size, variety, and number, till at 
length the forests become dense and extensive. This im- 
provement of the vegetation, in a progress to the south, has 
place far earlier, or far nearer the north, on the coast of the 
Pacific ocean than on the eastern side of the. Northern 
Andes, from the superior warmth of the air on that coast. 
Among the trees of the forest are several species of the 
pine, many of which grow to such magnitude as to be twenty 
or thirty feet in girth, and of a height proportionate, some- 
times of above two hundred feet. The cedar also, often 
of still larger dimensions, covers some tracts of considerable - 
extent. The alder forms beautiful woods in some. places, 
with a trunk seven or eight or more feet in circumference, 
and forty in height between the ground and lowest branches. 

The inner rind_ of some species, particularly that which is 
called the hemlock tree, is used as food, on occasions of 


' searcity, by the savages. Wild berries of various kinds 


are produced in abundance, in places adapted severally to 
their growth. Among :these are gooseberries, currants, 
cherries, raspberries, cranberries, and strawberries. The 
rosebush also flourishes; copiously in many tracts. Among 
the wild plants are flax, the-parsnip, the carrot, the liquorice, 
wild rye, and that which is termed by botanists sizania 
aquatica, and by travellers wild rice. This appears to be 
a species of grass, bearing farinaceous seeds which resem- 
ble rice. Growing in vast quantities in shallow streams of 
water, in tracts where the cold is too severe for the pro- 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA: 


duction of European corn, this plant, which now serves to a 


feed savages and wild fowl, may become in future times an 
object of human culture. 


All the quadrupeds of this immense region, so far as we 
are informed, appear to be as yet indigenous, except the 
horse, which has been lately introduced into the southern 
parts by the Indians, who steal considerable numbers from 
the Spanish colonists of New Mexico. Among the indi- 
genous animals are two species of the Vaccine tribe, the 
bison and the musk ox, which differ greatly in size, but 
are humped both at the shoulders, are clothed, at the roots 
of their long hair, with fine wool fit to be manufactured 


into cloth, and smell both of musk, but the latter sort more. 


strongly, insomuch that its heart is on this account not 
edible. The bison, termed also the buffalo and the Ameri- 


103 


CHAPTER. 
Itl. 


Animals, 


can ox, grows to such a size as to weigh from’sixteen hun-- 


dred to two thousand four hundred pounds. Froin its long 
flocks of reddish hair, depending from the head and shoul- 
ders, the bull displays a tremendous aspect, but is extremely 
timid, unless it be wounded, when it becomes dangerously 
fierce. These animals migrate in vast herds from north to 


south, and from the highlands to the lowlands, and con- - 


versely, according to the seasons, between the latitudes of 
Hudson’s gulf and those of the northern parts of New 
Mexico. ‘These and several species of the deer are so 


numerous in the rich lands toward the south, that the coun- 


try has “ the appearance, in some places of a stall-yard, from 
the state of the ground, and the quantity of dung which is 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


scattered over it.”’* The musk ox is less tall than a deer, 
but larger in'the-body.. The horns are so. disproportiou- 
ately large, that a pair sometimes weighs sixty pounds, and 
the legs are little more than a foot in length; yet the 
animal is nimble, and climbs rocks like a goat.. The hair 
of the female is black, but that of the male is of a dusky red, 
extremely fine,‘and-so long as‘to trail on the ground, It 
migrates in herds of twenty or thirty; nearly as far south- 
ward as the bison, and’ much farther northward, even 
beyond the latitude of seventy-two degrees.} ' | 

Of the deer ‘are several species. The reindeer is seen 
moving in columns of eight or ten thousand each, in the 
vicinity of Hudson’s gulf. ‘The stag, near five feet high, and 
_ eight in length, inhabits more southern territories; separated 
from those of the former sort almost by a line, instinctively 
settled, as if by mutual compact. The moosedeer, of which 
_ the elk:seems to be a species, inhabits: the latitudes of the 
vast Canadian lakes, and thence so far southward as the 
fortieth degree. The weight of the largest has-been found 
to be twelve hundred pounds, and the height seventeen 
hands. © With hair.of a hoary brown colour, a huge head, 
short neck, and long ears, it shews a rather deformed and 
stupid aspect. Less than three feet measures the distance 
between the tips of the horns of this anjmal,- which is cer- 
tainly not the same species with that which anciently existed _ 
in Ireland, where horns of vast size are found. It is inoffen- 
sive, except in the season of amorous feelings, or when it is 


| ® Mackenzie, p. 104,—See also- Lewis and Clarke, 4to. p..652. ~ 
+ Pennant’s Arctic Zoology, vol. 1, page 8—12. 


v 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA; 


wounded. .The skin is manufactured into excellent buff. 


105 


CHAPTER 
If. 


The flesh is remarkably agreeable and nutricious, particus. ————— 


larly the tongue, but chiefly the nose, which is perfectly 
marrow.* Several smaller species of deer, like those of Eu- 
rope, roam in numerous herds through the vast forests and 
savannahs of the middle and southern parts, and in like 
manner the elk. 


Among the various other kinds of quadrupeds in. this 
vast region are several species of the bear, white, red, black, 
and grey, the beaver, the porcupine, the wolf, the fox of se- 
veral sorts and colours, the ground-dog, which burrows i in 
the earth, the wolvereen, which seems. to be a species of 
carnivorous bear, and several varieties of the cat, the largest 
_of which is by some called the panther, and has been found 
six feet in the length of its body. The beaver inhabits from 
the sixtieth to the thirtieth degree of latitude, but much more 


toward the former. This amphibious animal, so much the - 


object of pursuit on account of its valuable fur, is known to 
live in societies of two or three hundred together, to work in 
common like the ant or bee, and to form assemblages of com- 
modious apartments on lakes and rivers, where it lodges, and 
stores its food, the branches. and shoots of trees, for the 
winter. The beaver, which weighs from forty to sixty 
pounds, is inferior in size to the black sea-otter, the weight 


of whose body.is-seventy or eighty.’ The fur. of this qua- - 


druped, which inhabits the coast. of the Pacific ocean, be- 
tween the latitudes of forty-nine and sixty, is in. such esti- 


. Pennant, vol. 1, p. 18—31, 
a 


106 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA, 


“cHapTEr mation, that the skin has-sold in China at the price of from 


Ill. 


Fossils, 


fourteen to twenty-five pounds. 


Among the numerous tribes of the feathered race is the 
turkey, indigenous only in the new continent, whence it 
has been imported into the old. This bird, which, in its 


_ wild state, grows to the weight of thirty, sometimes even 


forty pounds, is numerous only in tracts most remote from 
human habitation, where it is said to assemble in. flocks of 
frequently five hundred each. Aquatic fowls are in pro- 
digious numbers, particularly several species of wild geese, 
thousands of which are taken in the vicinity of Hudson’s 
gulf. ‘The bird which most astonishes by its numbers is a 
species of pigeon, which breeds in the northern parts, and 
migrates to the south at the approach of winter, much more 
indeed in some years than in ‘others, in flocks of many 
millions. ‘The varieties of the serpent are in considerable 
number; but the rattle snake, so denominated from the rat- 
tling of dry joints of bone at the end of its tail, is not found 
northward of the forty-fifth degree of latitude. Various 
other reptiles are copious in places adapted to their nature. 
Marine animals, among which are various kinds of the seal, 
the whale, and numerous tribes of other fish, abound along 
the coasts, 


Concerning the fossils of this part of the globe we can 


‘at present say but little, as nothing beneath the surface of 


the earth, and extremely little of the surface itself, has as 
yet been explored ; but that it is deficient in riches of this 
nature we have no reason to suspect. In all the northern 


' r] 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


107 


parts to the north of lake Winnipig, and eastward from the CHAPTER 


same to the gulf of Hudson, the substratum of the soil seems. 
mostly granite, while to the west and south of this lake lie 
vast beds of limestone, between which and. the granitic 
region are: situated all the great basons of fresh water in 
North America.* A tract in the north so abounds in cop- 


per, that a stream which flows through it to the Arctic 


ocean, has thence been denominated the coppermine river. 
Vast beds of mineral salt exist in many parts, as is evinced 
by saline wells and other tokens. For instance, westward 
of the Unjiga river, in'its approach to the Slave lake, con- 
creted salt, perfectly white and pure, may be collected in 


any quantity, around the numerous pools and springs of 


salt water, which appear in that tract. In other places 
have springs been seen whose margins are covered with 
sulphureous incrustations ; and fountains of bitumen, par- 
ticularly in territories near the Elk river, have been disco- 
veried, into which a pole, twenty feet long, may be inserted 
perpendicularly downward, without resistance. Stratums. 
also of coal have been found, and probably this valuable 
fossil may ‘be copious in many parts. 


The history of this‘as yet uncultivated part of the earth’s 
surface is only a registry of discoveries of its coasts by na- 
vigators, and of its interior by travellers, as the history of 
its few savage inhabitants, among whom are no records, is 
unknown. Ina search for a north-west passage to thé East 
Indies, which continued to be an object of hope and enter- 


* Mackenzie, p, 403. 
02 





History. 


108 


CHAPTER 
BI. 





NORTHWESTERN AMERICA.° 


_ prize till the latter part of the eighteenth century, the Eng- 


lish, under Martin Frobisher, in the year 1576, discovered. 
the strait which bears his name, in the sea which was after- 
ward called the strait of Davis, from John Davis who ex- 


plored it in 1585, between Greenland and the main conti- 


nent of America. In 1610, the important discovery was 
made by Henry Hudson of the extensive gulf called Hudson’s 
bay, the coasts of which where a trade in furs was found very 
profitable, have since been examined by other navigators. 
The earliest discoverers of the Western coasts were Spa- 
niards, one of whom Francisco Gali, viewed the shores of 
the continent between the fifty-seventh and fifty-eighth de- 
grees of latitude, and admired the snowy mountains of the 
great northern chain.* . The next who attempted to explore 
these tracts were the Russians, who had possessed them- 
selves of Siberia, the part of the old continent the nearest 


_to the new; but their discoveries extended not far to the 


south. The first Russian discoverers of the American 
coasts were Beering and Tchirikof, who sailed from Kam- 
tchatka in 1741. From the former the channel between the 


extremities of the two continents. bears the name of the 
strait of Beering. 


‘The Spaniards, after an Sestenaieniels of nearly a hun- 
dred and seventy years, renewed their voyages. northward 
on the American coast, not for the promoting of geographi- 
cal knowledge, but for the prevention, if possible, of any 
settlements which other European nations might meditate 


* Humboldt’s New Spain, vo. London, 1811, vol. 2, p. 360.. 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


109 


‘to establish, in regions of which the Spanish crown claimed ¢HAPTER 
exclusively the dominion. A Spanish captain, named wee 


Juan Perez, in. ¥/74, anchored, with his crew, on the 
ninth of August, “ the first of all European navigators, in 
Nootka road, which they called the port of San Lorenzo, 
and which the illustrious Cook, four years afterwards, 
-named King George’s Sound.”* Cook, and his successor, 
Captain Gore, explored the coast to the strait of Beering, 
and beyond it as far as the permanent ice of the Arctic sea 
permitted. Other expeditions were subsequently made by 
Spanish officers, which, with those of the famous English 
navigator, Vancouver, in the years 1792, 1793, and 1794, 
completed the survey of the north-western coast. For the 
exploration of the interior parts a journey was performed on 
land by Hearne, and two voyages were accomplished along 
Jakes. and rivers by Mackenzie. The former having taken 


his departure from. Churchill river, which falls into Hudson's: 


gulf, arrived, by a north-westerly course of near thirteen 
hundred miles, in the June of 1771, at the mouth of the 
‘Coppermine river, under the latitude of seventy-two de- 
grees. The latter, having embarked in a canoe, at Fort 


/ 


Chepewyan, at the lake of the Hills, proceeded to the Slave } 


lake, and thence, by a stream called from his name Mac- 
kenzie’s river, in the’ July of 1789, to the Arctic ocean, 
near the seventieth degree. In his second expedition, 
which was directed south-westward, he: sailed from the same 


fort up the Unjigah, and passed thence by a portage to the 


_ Oregan, whence he arrived by land, in the July of 1793, at 


er 


* Humboldt, vol, 2, p. 364. 


4 \ 


410 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA: 


carter an inlet of the Pacific ocean, about the fifty-second degree 
ti — of latitude, the first of all Europeans who traversed North 


Commerce. 


America from the Atlantic to the opposite shores. 


The voyages performed for the discovery .of the coasts 
and inlets of this immense region have led to the establish- 
ment of an extensive commerce in furs and peltry; the only 
products of these wilds as yet considered as worthy of being 
rendered objects of exportation. The English formed fac- 
tories on the coasts of Hudson’s gulf for a traffic with the 
savages, but in 1673 the trade was confined by patent to an 


exclusive corporation, termed the Hudson’s bay company. 


The factories are chiefly settled on the rivers Moose, Albany, 


‘Severn, Nelson, and Churchill. The French also of Ga- 


nada, while they remained in possession of that country, 


‘maintained the same commerce with the savages, and ex- 
tended it much farther. The English, since they became 


possessor's of Canada, have carried their enterprizes beyond 


former limits, especially since the institution of a mercantile 


association styled the north-west company, in 1783, whose 
agents have erected factories along the Saskatshawin river, 
and seem to be approaching the Pacific ocean. Blankets, 


~ ammunition, and various manufactured articles, are given in 
exchange to the savages for the products of the chase. The 


goods are conveyed in canoes made of the bark of trees, 
particularly the birch. 'The canoes thus are light for acca- 


_ sional transportation over-land, and, if easily damaged, are 
“also easily repaired. These crazy vessels are navigated 


thousands of miles by intrepid mariners, who are wonder- 
fully patient of cold, fatigue, and hunger. At a portage 


\ 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


the’ vessel is unloaded or lightened, according to circum- 
stances, and the merchandize is carried on men’s shoulders 
to the next place of embarkation ; while the canoe is either 
floated empty, or partly disburthened, through the rapid, 
or carried over-land in like manner as the cargo. 


The earliest traders on the western coast were the Rus- 
sians, who have formed small factories in the north-western 
parts, as far toward the south as the fifty-ninth degree of 
Jatitude, which seems to be the limit of their commercial 
operations, or of any dominion in America which they can 
justly claim. These indeed seem of all Europeans the best 
adapted for an advantageous traffic in these regions, from 
their hardy modes of life, and their trade by land with 
China, the chief market for peltry. By the discovery of 
Nootka sound, by the celebrated Cook, a new scene of com- 
merce was opened for furs, particularly that of the marine 
otter ; but this trade has been ruined for a time by the com- 
petition and irregular conduct of different nations, particu- 
larly Anglo-Americans, No means are furnished for the 
forming of a just estimate of the quantity of furs and skins 
of the beaver, the marten, the lynx, the otter, and various 
other quadrupeds, exported by the way of Hudson’s gulf, 
Canada, and the western ports: but we know that the 


traders of Canada* have procured above a hundred thou- — 


sand beavers’ skins in the space of a year. 


_ The inhabitants of this immense region, indigenous in 
_ our conception, as we have no knowledge of anterior occu- 


* Mackenzie’s Introduction, © 


itl 


CHAPTER 
Ill. 


Inhabitants, 


12 


CHAPTER 
THT. 


Eskimoes. 


Occidentals. 


Persons. 


“NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


pants, may, for the convenience of giving to the reader sucl: 


information concerning them as can be collected, be con- 
sidered as divided into three general classes, the Eskeemoes, 


the Occidentals, and the interior aboriyinals, The Esqui- 


maux or Eskimoes, who dwell along the northern coast, 
from Hudson’s gulf and the sea of Davis to the Pacific 


ocean; are the same with those who inhabit Labrador and 


Greenland, in the accounts of which countries they are 
described. Of the Occidentals, by which term are de- 
signated the inhabitants of that western region which » 
lies between the Pacific and the Northern Andes, our 
knowledge is extremely limited. They consist of various 


' tribes er nations, which are different, in their personal 


characteristics, from the rest of the Americans, and from 


one another. | 


Of the personal conformation and complexion of the Oc- 


cidental Americans several partial accounts have been receiv- 


ed, but not such as enable us toform thence a general charac- 
ter which could prove satisfactory. We find that to the north 
of the fifty-first or’ fifty-second degree of northern latitude 
the hair of the inhabitants, altogether differently from that _ 
of the interior aboriginals, is generally of & brown or ches- 
nut colour, sometimes approaching to fair.* Their com- 
plexions also seem in general less dark, and some tribes are 
found, which, in the prominence and regularity of the fea- 
tures, and fairness of the skin, bear a strong resemblance to 
the people of northern Europe. High cheek-bones appear 


* Vancouver, vol. 4, p. 105.—La Perouse, vol. 3, p. 195. 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA, 


to be universally prevalent: but, instead of attempting a 
general portrait from observations too few and scanty, the 
notice of some particulars may prove less unsatisfactory to 
‘the reader. 


~ About the sixtieth degree of latitude, and to the north- 
ward of it, the people were found of a stature not exceeding 
the common height; of a square make, or with strong Siig : 
with heads disproportionally large ; short and thick necks ; 
large and broadly spreading faces, inclined to flatness ; 
eyes, though not otherwise small, yet not large in propor- 
tion to the face ; noses with full and round tips, which are 
hooked or turned upward; broad and white teeth, equal in 
size, and evenly set ; black, thick, strait, and strong hair ; 
strait beards, generally thin, but sometimes thick, and fre- 


quently of'a brown colour on the lips ; and skins sometimes 


white, without any mixture of red, but sometimes brownish 
orswarthy.* A little to the north of the fifty-fourth degree, 
a tribe was discovered with large eyes, European features, 
and a skin less dark than that of the German peasants, 
though the people dwelling around were of a different cast 
of featurés and complexion. + The inhabitants of the ter- 
ritories situated about the fifty-second degree are in gene- 
ral of a middle stature, with round faces, high cheek-bones, 
a complexion between the olive and copper, small grey 
eyes with a tinge of red, hair of a dark brown hue ineli- 


* Cook’s Third Voyage, Book 4, chap. 5. 
+ Humboldt, vol. 1, p. 145. 


P 


‘LI 


CHAPTER 
IL. 





114 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA, 


PEARTER ning to black, and heads so flattened by art both before and 





behind as to terminate above in the form of a wedge.* 
This cuneated shape of the head continues onward to the 
south, to the countries about the Columbia river. It is 
eaused in the time of infancy, when the skull is soft, by the 
pressure of two boards, covered with soft leather, the one 
applied to the frontal bone, the other to the occipital. 


- The people, however, who dwell to the south of the fifty- 
first, or fiftieth degree of latitude, appear te he a race essen- 
tially different from the more northern tribes. The inhabi- 
tants of the coasts about Nootka sound are described as below 
the common stature, with fleshy or plump, but not muscu- 


lar bodies ; faces. commonly round and full, sometimes also_ 


broad; high and prominent-cheeks, above which the face 


js frequently much depressed, or seemingly fallen. inward, 


quite across, between the temples; noses flattened at the 
base, with wide nostrils and a rounded tip.; foreheads rather 
low ; small eyes, black, and rather languishing than spark- 
ling ; the mouth round ; round lips somewhat thick ; teeth 
tolerably equal and well set, but not remarkably white ; 
hair in abundance, coarse and strong, and universally black, 
straight, and. lank ; and either thin beards or none, the ef- 
fect of eradication.* 'The skin seems fair in its natural state. 


‘The body is rather clumsily framed, and the limbs very. 


small in proportion, crooked, with projecting ankles, and 
large and ill shaped. feet. In these deformities they agree 


with the tribes who dwell about the lower part of the river _ 


* Mackenzie, p. 370; + Cook’s Third Voyage, Book 4, chap. 2. 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


Columbia. These are represented as of a diminutive sta- 
ture in general, a bad shape, an unpleasing appearance, 
with broad, thick, and flat feet, thick ankles, crooked legs, a 
wide mouth, thick lips, a moderately sized nose, fleshy, 


wide at the extremities, with large nostrils, and generally . 


low between the eyes, but, in some rare instances, high and 
aquiline; and with eyes generally black, but sometimes of 


a dark yellowish brown, with a black pupil.* Their com- 


plexion is a coppery colour, but somewhat lighter than that 
of the interior aboriginals. ‘The deformity of the legs is 


attributed in.great measure to their mode of sitting on their — 


heels, and to tight ornamental bandages worn by the 
females, — 


The custom of rendering the forehead flat, which is ‘ope- 
rated on all persons of both sexes on the coasts, about the 
Columbia, and thence northward through six or seven de- 
grees of latitude, diminishes eastward, so as at/first to be 
confined to females, and at length to cease entirely, to the 
east of the northern Andes. ©The tribes of Shoshonees or 
Snake Indians, who dwell at the foot of these mountains, 
and who are supposed to have come from the eastern side, 
and who still at certain seasons pass thither for a time, ap- 
pear not to have adopted this inode of deformation: yet 
they might be suspected to be of a kindred race with the 
neighbouring occidentals, since they are described as ofa 
diminutive statare, with ‘thick flat fect aad ankles, and 
crooked legs ;+ to which another account adds a crookedness 


_* Lewis and Clarke, p. 436. + Lewis and Clarke, 4to, .p. 312. 
2 2 


115 


CHAPTER 
TLL 





116: 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA, 


CHAPTER of body, high. cheek-bones, large light coloured eyes, and. 





Habits. - 


such meagerness as to contribute to give them a frightful 


~ aspect.* - The inhabitants of the coasts nearer to the north, 


about the fifty-fourth degree, and even the fifty-second, and 


_ thence beyond the sixtieth, give themselves another artificial 


deformity more disgusting than the flat forehead. This is 
a horizontal incision made, in the time of infancy, quite 
through the under lip, which causes. the appearance of a se-- 
cond mouth. A thin piece of wood of an oval shape, com- 
monly about three inches-long and two broad, is worn in: 
this orifice, the artificial lips of which are received into. 
grooves made round the edge. of the wooden ornament: 
This horrible mode of decoration seems in some: tribes. 
wholely, and in others chiefly, to be applied to the female 
Sex, | ¢ 


The habits worn by the occidental aboriginals of Ame- 
rica are various, but are every where, as may be expected, 
rude, and in general inadequate for the purposes of modesty 
or comfortable warmth. The various tribes, like savages 
in general, are variously ornamented or disfigured, with 
trinkets, ‘with paint, or with indelible figures impressed. on, 
the skin., The trinkets are worn in strings on the legs and. 
arms, or suspended from the ears, or septum of the nose, 
perforated for that purpese. On the northern parts. of the 
coast, about Cook’s inlet, the- common garment of both, 
sexes is a close robe of skin, with the hair mostly outward,, 
reaching generally to the ankles, sometimes only to the 


* Lewis’ Account, 8vo. p. 10. 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


knees, with a hole above barely sufficient to admit the head, 
and with sleeves reaching to the wrists. .The head, legs, 
and feet are commonly naked ; but some have high caps 
in the form of a truncated cone; some have leathern stock- 
ings extending half-way up the thigh ; and almost all have 
mittens for the hands from the paws of bears. For a de- 
fence against rain they use an outside garment made from 
the intestines of the whale, or some other large animal, 
like that which is used by the Eskeemoes, whom also these’ 
clans resemble in their boats and instruments for fishing. 
Farther southward, toward’ the fifty-second degree of lati- 
tude, a robe is worn either of skin or manufactured from 
the filaments of the inner bark of the cedar, or some other 
tree, falling to the heels behind, and a little below the knees 
before, with a cape in the form of an inverted bowl. A cap 
~ is aiso used in these territories, sometimes a kind of leathern 
slioe, and in rain a short mantle of matting: but for the 
covering of those parts which civilized nations are most 
careful to conceal, no meansare employed, except a small 


apron of fringe carried by the women, which answers not. 


the purpose otherwise than quite imperfectly. Garments 


of thick leather, in case of expected battle, and other de> 


fences against weapons, are occasionally carried also. 


Flax and the wool of some wild’ quadrupeds are rudely 
manufactured into a kind of cloth by the people about 
Nootka sound. - Beside various dresses occasionally worn, 
for war or ceremony, often monstrous and frightful, the 
common garb of the inhabitants of this part of the coast is 


a‘ kind of flaxen:cloak, ornamented: at the edges with. fur. 


17 


CHAPTER 
Lil. 


118 


CHAPTER 
Ill. 


i eeeemenen ated 


Language. 





- NOETHWESTERN AMERICA. 


and fringes, reaching below the jennie passing ‘under the 
left arm, and tied over the right shoulder, in such manner 
as to leave both arms free, and to cover. the left side, but to 
expose their right, except when the vestment is collected by. 
a girdle. Over this is placed a manile, similar in stuff and 
ornaments, covering the arms to the elbows and the, hody 
to the waist, resembling a round dish inverted, with .a hole 
in the middle, through which the head is thrust. On thie 
head is a cap of fine matting, in form of a truncated cone, 
tied under the chin. with a string, often decorated at top 
with a knob ora bunch of tassels, Among the tribes about 
the Columbia the dress of the men is a small robe of skin, 
reaching to the middle of the thigh, tied across the breast by 


a string, with the corners hanging loosely over the arms. 


Sometimes, instead of this, a bieakes, woven by the fingers, 
is used. All parts of the man, with this imperfect vesture, 
except the back and shoulders, are exposed to view. The 
robe of the women descends not below the waist ; but the 
lower parts of the body are incompletely covered by a kind 
of fringe-work of rushes, flags, or bark of trees, sometimes 
interwoven with fur. The covering of the head is a conical 
cap of similar materials, tied under the chin,-in like manner 
as that of the people of Nootka. ‘T’o notice inore varieties 
would be useless, especially as an intercourse with Euro- 
peans may introduce in a few years considerable alterations. 


The languages of the occidental tribes, of which our 
knowledge is altogethor scanty, appear to be as various as 
their personal chasaei uation: ‘The speech of the more 
northern inhabitants, as about Cook's inlet, is guttural ; but 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


119 


the words, which sound as sentences in the ears of Euro- — 


peans, are pronounced in general with strength and dis- 
tinctness. ‘The language of Nootka, which is essentially 
different from the more northern dialects, is far from harsh 
. or disagreeable, abounding more in labial and dental, than 
in guttural sounds. Yet some of its syllables cannot accu- 
rately be represented by the letters of our alphabet, nor 
easily expressed by Europeans, particularly one which very 
frequently occurs. This is approximated by Roman cha- 
yacters in the word opulszthl, the name of the sun, and 
onulszthl, that of the moon. The words often terminate 
in z and ss, but much more commonly in tl. Thus Vucuati’ 
is the real appellation of the harbour, which Cook, front 


a remarkable inattention, or inaccuracy in. hearing, con- . 


ceived td.be called Nootka. From the little which is known. 

of this language we have ground to suspect an affinity be- 
~ tween it and the ancient Mexican.* About the Columbia 
the pronunciation of several tribes is so guttural, that no-\ 


thing “seems to represent their tone of speaking more — 


thai the clucking. of a fowl or the noise of a parrot. This 
peculiarity renders their voices: scarcely audible, except at 
a short distance, and, when many of them. are talking, forms 
a strange confusion, of sounds. Their common conversa-: 


tion consists of low guttural sounds, occasionally broken by | 


a loud word or two, after which it relapses, and can scarcely 
be distinguished’”’+ bya stranger. How far this mode of 
speaking may resemble, or differ from, the clacking of the 


*®& 


= Cook’s third Voyage, book 4, chap, Sand Sireiabioldh, Fol. 2; po.569,, 


+ Lewis and Clarke, Pp. = 374, 





120 


CHAPTER 





Tlouses, 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


Hottentots, we cannot pretend to know, until the discourses 
of both kinds of people shall have been heard and Gespribed 
by the same observers. 


Beside various kinds of huts or cabins, like those of other 
savages in America, habitations of an uncommon sort are 
in use with the occidental tribes, especially near inlets and 
rivers where fish are copious. These, both in sides and 
roof, are composed of planks, retained in due position by 
poles, posts,.and ligatures. Each house contains commonly 
three, four, or more families, whose distinct apartments are 
so imperfectly separated, that the whole fabric may be con- 
sidered as having a rude resemblarice to a long stable, with 
two ranges of stalls, and a broad passage in the middle, 
from end ‘to end, between them. A hollow in the floor, 
without hearth or chimney, serves as a fire-place. Aper- 
tures in the roof, longitudinal at the ridge-pole, or other- 
wise disposed, imperfectly emit the smoke and admit the 
fight. ‘These houses vary in size and other circumstances. 
Tn some the roof is flat and horizontal ; in others shelving 
from one side-wall to the other ; and in others shelving from 
the ridge-pole to the sides, in the manner of European 
houses. Soine are partly sunk in the earth to the depth of 
from about four to six feet, above which they rise to the 
height of six or eight: in others, which are from twelve to 


~ fourteen feet high, the floor ison the surface of the ground : 


and seme are built on platforms, elevated on posts, from 


twelve to near thirty feet above the soil.’ The last, which 


are ascended by trunks of trees notched, serving as ladders, 
appear to be commonly the largest, as they are found from 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


a hundred to a hundred and twenty feet long and about 
forty broad; while others seem generally between thirty 
and sixty feet in length, and between fourteen and thirty 
in breadth : some, however, built.immediately on the ground, 
have been seen of a vast size, even a hundred and sixty feet 


long and forty broad. The roofs of some, beside boards, - 


have also a covering of bark, in the’ manner of thatch.* 
With the mode of life, and state of society, of these Occi- 
dentals, our acquaintance isso very superficial, that little on 
thatsubject can be said with precision. The tribes in general, 
differently from those of a merely pastoral or venatic life, 
appear to be stationary, depending chiefly for subsistence 
on the produce of the seas and rivers. Their food consists 
partly of berries, roots, and other vegetable substances, but 
in much greater proportion of aquatic animals, particularly 
salmon, which ascend the rivers in prodigious numbers. 
These and other fish, as herrings and sliced porpoises, are 
preserved for store by drying. ‘The two latter are com- 
monly eaten in that state without any other preparation. 
The salmon is in. general merely warmed, except while it 
is fresh, when it is boiled or roasted. The operation of 
boiling is performed’ in wooden vessels by the immersion 
of red-hot stones, in succession in the water. The roes of 
fish, incrusted and dried on the tender branches of the pine, 
or on @ species of grass, are eaten as winter’s food, together 


* Lewis and Clarke, p. 369, 382, 392, 481, 515.—Mackenzie, p. 329.— 
Cooke, book 4, chap, 3.— Vancouver, vol. 3, p. 128, 405; vol. 4, p. 25,26. 
~—La Perouse, vol. 3, p. 199. 


Q 


A2i 


CHAPTER 
IIL 


122 


CHAPTER 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA, 


with these vegetables, Among the species of vegetable 


—————— food is the inner bark of certain trees, pounded and pre- 


Manners. 


pared in various ways, as a substitute for bread. Some 
tribes on the northern parts of the coast devour fresh fish, 
or some parts of them at least, in a state entirely raw. The 
boats, arms, and instruments of the northerns are almost 
the same with those of the savages of Greenland. Toward 


the south, as about the Columbia, the boats or canoes are 


from fifteen to above fifty feet long, each consisting wholely 
of a single trunk of a tree hollowed. One of the largest 
carries a cargo of four or five tons, and a crew of twenty or 


_ thirty persons. They are managed with such dexterity as 


to ride safely in tempestuous seas, where a European boat 
would inevitably perish. The Occidental tribes have been 
every where found uncleanly in their habitations, persons, 
and food. To this is ascribed a remarkably premature de- 
cay of the teeth and eyes among the dwellers about the 
Columbia river. 


Concerning the government, religion, and manners of the 
occidental tribes, a few superficial remarks only, can be 


-made., Their government seems mostly like that of sa- 


vages in general, where every man is perfectly free, and no 
chief has authority to command, but merely to advise : yet 
in some tribes on the coast hereditary monarchy is said to 
be established, as at Nootka, where the tays or prince is af- 
firmed to be absolute, uniting in his person both the civil 
and ecclesiastical jurisdiction.* The Nootkains, who have 


* Humboldt, vol. 2, p. 370, 371. 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


made some advances toward civilization, and have regu- 
lated their year by fourteen months of twenty days each, 

with intercalations to supply the deficiency, are found to 
believe in the existence of two principles concerned in the 
government of the world, a good and a bad, and in a con- 
test between them. Notions of a like nature seem to pre- 
vail in other tribes ;* but of their various and absurdly super- 


stitious ideas very little is known, nor would perhaps, a par- 


ticular knowledge of them be worthy of being communicated. 

Some forms of worship are observed in several communities, 
where wooden images of rude formation are in use. The 
modes of burial are various. Of these to mention two may 
be sufficient. The one is to wrap the bodies in the skin of 
animals, and to place them, one over another, in wooden 
houses appropriated to that purpose. The other is to leave 
them to moulder in the open air, in canoes, on spots of 
ground somewhat elevated, chosen from some superstitious 
motive. Much diversity has been discovered in the manners 
of different tribes. Many are thievish and treacherous, as is 
generally the case with savages: yet some have been found, 
with surprise, remarkably honest, particularly the Wolla- 
wollahs, who dwell about the Columbia river, at_a consider- 
able distance from the ocean. Some also have displayed a 
comparatively great mildness of manners, as the Chopunnish 
clans, who inhabit a neighbouring tract still farther from the 


ocean.t 


* Mackenzie, p, 374.  -—S»s+_: Lewis & Clarke, p. 535, 557. 


OS... 


123 


- CHAPTER 
I I IL. zs 





124 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


"CHAPTER All the occidental tribes are addicted to gaming, as are 
————_ men in general of barbarous manners, in whatsoever coun- 


try they are found. These tribes, however, bear an honour- 
able distinction from other savages in their behaviour to the 
female sex. Women among them are not only treated with 
respect, but also’ often- assume authority and command. 
This, with seeming justice is ascribed to their mode of tife. 
Among people purely venatic, where a precarious and often 
scanty subsistence is procurable only by the vigorous exer- 
tions of the male sex, the females are considered as of little 
utility in contributiug to the common support, and therefore 
of little value. But where, as in these western tracts, the food 
consists chiefly of wild vegetables and fish , the women are 
as useful as the men in the acquiring of necessaries for the 
family or clan. Here the collecting of roots and berries 
devolves chiefly on the females, and they are as dexterous 
as the males in the management of boats and instruments of 
the fishery. The stationary life of this people also, and 


‘their plenty of provisions, occasion a treatment of the old 


and infirm different from that which is experienced by per- 
sons of this description in tribes which subsist by hunting. 
Tn the erratic life of the latter, who make long and laborious 
excursions in quest of precarious food, the infirm, who can 
give no assistance, nor accompany the rest without causing 
delay and trouble, become a useless incumbrance, and are 
therefore abandoned. But in a stationary state of society, 
amid a sufficiency of provisions, the eoversation and advice 
of the aged and experienced are regarded as compensating 
for the victuals which they consume. We find indeed, that 
among the occidental Americans, the aged of both sexes, 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


when even deprived of sight and the use of their limbs, are 
held in respect, and treated with tenderness. |Notwith- 
standing however that so much deference is paid to females, 
men prostitute their wives, daugliters, or sisters, to strangers 
without seruple.* | | 


The Interior aboriginals belong to that general. race of 


indigenous Americans, of which I have spoken in the gene-’ 


ral view, and which extends throughout the vast continent 
of America, from the vicinity of the Eskeemoes to the strait 
of Magellan. The colour of the skin is coppery, ora red- 
dish brown ; ‘the hair universally of a jetty black, glossy, 
smooth, coarse, flat, and pendent ; the eyes black, small, 
deeply set, and oblong, with the corners directed upward 
toward the temples ; the nose commonly sraight ; the lower 
part of the face in general triangular, while the forehead 


approaches a square form ; the cheeks prominent; the cast 


of the countenance suspicious and ferocious, contrasted 
with an expression of gentleness about the mouth ; the fore- 
head less prominent, and the occipital bone less curved, than 
in Europeans; the face either destitute of a beard, by the 
eradication of the hairs, or thinly furnished with that appen- 
dage;+ and ‘“ the'mouth is formed like a shark’s, that is, 
the sides are lower than the front, and the teeth, small, white, 
and regular, are sharp and cutting, like those of the cat or 
the tiger. May not this form be naturally accounted for 
from their habit of biting from a Jarge piece when they eat, 


* Lewis and Clarke, p. 441, 442.—Vancouver, vol, 4, p» 254. - 
+ Humboldt, vol. 1, p.141—148,. Volney, p.403+-413; 


125 


CHAPTER 
-. IY. 


ee 


Interior 
Aboriginals. 


Persons. 


“CHAPTER 
iif. 





Habits, 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


without ever using aknife? This habit evidently gives the 


muscles a position which at. Jength they retain, and this’ po- 
sitionultimately modifies thesolid partslikewise.”* They are. 
in general well shaped, but less robust than the Europeans, 
and various in stature. Variations also in personal charac- 
teristics, even shades of colour, have place in the different 
tribes, by which those who. are well acquainted with them 
can easily distinguish them. ' Some distinctive marks are 
the effects of art. One of the most striking is found in the 
tribe of the Choctaws, who, by a compression in the days 
of infancy, mould the head into the form of a truncated py- 


ramid. The shades of colour are so different, that, while 


in some tribes the skin is hardly darker than in. the southern 


Europeans, it is in others almost as black as that of the 


Negroes,+ as is the case among the Mississaguis, at lake 
Ontario. | 


The habits or dresses of the aboriginals, improperly 


termed Indians, of North America, vary in the different 


tribes, and in a difference of circumstances. Many go al- 
most naked, even in severe weather, using only some of the 
articles which compose a full clothing. These articles con- 


sist principally ofa kind of shoes, hoes, aprons, a coat, an 
outside robe, ‘a girdle, and some appendages. Those who 


have an opportunity of trading with Europeans have mostly 
exchanged their leathern garments for those of cloth or 
blanketing, but the rest still continue to clothe themselves 


* Volney, :ibidem. 
+ Weld’s Travels in North America, 8vo, London, 1799, vol. 2, p. 924. 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


127 


with skins. The vestments of both materials are fashioned CHAPTER 


in the same manner, and are in general nicely decorated, 


at the seams and “ with porcupine’s ‘quills and other ~ 


ornaments. 


The shoe, called moccasin, is formed of a single: piece 
of the skin of the buffalo, elk, or deer, fitted. closely to'the 
foot like a sock, with a seain from the toe tothe instep, and 
- another behind at the heel, and with sometimes a sole, of 
what seems a thick parchment, from the skin of the elk. 
The hose or leggings, of leather or cloth, extending from 
the instep to the middle of the thigh, are fitted tightly to the 
limbs, and sometimes sewed. on them so, closely as to remain 
immoveably fixed until worn into rags, and are fastened to 
a narrow girdle by two strings, one outside of each thigh. 
Another narrow belt is also.in use, to which are appended two 
small aprons, one before, the other behind, and through 
which are drawn, behind and before, the ends. of a narrow 
piece of cloth, or leather, passing between. the thighs. 
What may be termed the coat is in the form of a shirt, open 
at the neck and wrists, and descending only to the upper 
ends of the leggings. The outside robe.is a kind of mantle 
of leather, sufficient to envelope the whole body, or a great 
square piece of cloth, or a blanket, thrown about the shoul- 
ders, and variously placed or folded, according to. the fancy 
of the wearer, but often drawn over the left shoulder, and 
under the right, in such manner as to leave the #i@ht arm 


free. ‘The garments of the women are scarcely distinguish- 


able from those of the men. Some wear a skin, or cloth, 
_ about the middle, descending to the knees; and some:a 


126 


CHAPTER 
Ilt. 





Languages.’ 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


shirt which reaches to the ancles. The hair of bot! sexes 
is variously modified. Among males many permit only one 
lock to grow, which falls backward in length from the 
crown of the head. Both men and women wear ornaments 
in great variety, as bracelets on the arms, pendants in the 
ears, and sometimes in the nose. Some men slit the ears 
and distend them so as to touch the shoulders. The faces in 
general are horribly painted or daubed, especially in pre- 


paring for a warlike expedition, with ointments of different 
colours, particularly black ane red.* 


The languages spoken by the numerous little.nations or 
tribes of savages, who roam through the immense wilds 
between the northern Andes and the European settlements 
on the eastern side of North America, have not as yet been 


made so much the object of philological enquiry, as to af- 


ford grounds for the furnishing of any satisfactory informa- 


tion on that subject to the reader. Such an inquiry, exten- 
sively and judiciously pursued, by tracing affinities between 
different languages, would tend to discover a consanguinity, 


or an ancient connexion, between different clans, and also to 


determine whether an affinity exists between any of these 
American dialects and any of those which are spoken in the 
old continent. Whether, however, any valuable knowledge 
would result from this labour may be doubtful, since these 
barbarous dialects, wholely oral, or unrecorded by any per- 
manent characters, a4 have pitty changed} in a course 


* Weld, vol. 2, ‘p. 230~-238. Mackenzie, p. xciii—xcv. 36, 37,— 
Lewis and Clarke, i 64—66, 77, 648. | 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA, 


of ages, and several may probably have altogether perished. 
Yet great pains are said to be taken by the American sa- 
vages to preserve the purity of their languages, particularly 
in their orations at their public councils or assemblies, 
where orators are studious to display their eloquence, and 
the auditors attentive to criticise the speeches. But the 
languages of savage tribes, whose ideas are few and little 


abstracted, mnust necessarily be barren, how figurative so-' 


ever their studied orations may be. The dialects in general 
of the interior aboriginals contain many polysyllables, and 
in several the words end frequently in vowels. Some dia- 
lects are perceptibly more guttural than others; but the 


females are. observed to pronounce the languages much ' 


more softly than the other sex, in general indeed with a 
delicacy very pleasing to a European ear.* Most of these 
dialects, or the greater part of them, are comprehended under 
two general heads, the Knisteneaux and Chepewyan languages. 
The former; in all its variations, is spoken by the tribes 
who dwell in the vicinity of Hudson’s gulf and the British 
settlements in Canada, and thence as far westward at least 
as the lake of the Hills.~ The latter is in use among those 
who inhabit the more western regions from the sixty-fifth 
degree of latitude southward to about the fify-second.+ 


The habitations of the savages of North America are rude 
in the extreme. In general they are only temporary huts, 
composed of a frame-work of poles and a covering of bark, 
The poles are fixed with their lower ends in the ground, 


* Weld, vol. 2, p, 288. + Mackenzie, p. xcii, cxvii. 
R 


129 


CHAPTER 
Itt. 


Habitationss 


t 


130 


CHAPTER 
Iit. 





Food. 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA, 


i 


and the upper joined at top, so as to form a slope for the 


outside covering. Some huts are conical; others of diffe- 
rent figures. In some a hole at the top serves for a chimney. 
Some are only sheds open on one side, These are often. 
placed in pairs, each pair with the open sides opposite to 
each other, and a fire in the space between them for the 
accommodation of both. Sometimes four sheds are dis- 
posed in the form of a quadrangle, with one fire in the cen- 


_ ter for them all. Several tribes dwell in tents covered wit h 


skins. Tents of this description of an extraordinary size 
are used as common halls. for public consultations. In their 
hunting expeditions, in the rigour of winter, the savages. 
frame their temporary lodges from the snow itself, which - 


" they use, on the occasion, as the material of building, and. 
‘which, consolidated by the frost, forms.a firm enclosure, 
and an effectual shelter from the winds. 


\ 

_ The food of the savage tribes in this immense region con- 
sists principally, often wholely, of the flesh of animals, eaten 
frequently almost raw, sometimes entirely in that state, 
Their meat, when cooked, is boiled, fried on embers, or 


stewed or roasted with hot stones, covered with leaves, or 


grass, and earth. ‘The boiling, where European pots have 
not been procured, is performed in kettles of stone, or in 
wooden vessels, in which the water is heated by red-hot 
stones.. They much prefer the fat of the flesh, as that of the 
bear, to the lean, as the former remains longer in the sto- 
mach under the operation of digestion. The lean however 
is necessarily chosen for the making of what is called pemi- 
kan, meat preserved 7 store. For this purpose the flesh 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICAs 


of the larger kinds of quadrupeds, cut into thin slices, and 


13k 


CHAPTER 
- TIL 


dried in the sunbeams, or on a wooden grate over a slow ———— 


fire, or by the frost, is pounded carefully between two 
. stones. In this state it may, with care, be kept fit for food 
during several years, without salt or any substitute for it. It 
is mixed with an equal quantity of the thickest or firmest 
kind of the fat of animals, melted, and poured on it in a 
boiling state. Carried in baskets or bags, in expeditions, 
it forms a nutritive sustenance, when supplies from the chase 
or the fishery fail. The pemikan is sometimes varied by 
other mixtures. Thus in the composition of a superior 
kind, marrow and dried berries have a place. To berries, 
wild roots, the rind of trees, and other vegetables, recourse 
is had, hia the more usual, and more favourite kind of ali- 
ment cannot be obtained. Some tribes boil vegetables with 
the flesh of bears, the fat of which gives such a flavour as is 
considered as delicious even by some Europeans. Salt is 
used as a seasoning by some tribes; but many never taste 
salt, spices of any kind, or bread, at any time in their lives, 
The flesh of dogs is eaten at tehenana:f feasts, but not in 
general as common food. 


The superstition of men in a savage condition ought 


hardly to be dignified with the name of religion, nor can a— 


regular statement of their wild and irrational fancies be 

easily formed. Religious notions ‘form. not a regular 

system among savages, because every individual, in his 

independent state, makes for himself a creed, after his own 

manner. ‘To judge from the accounts of the historians of 

the first settlers, and those of late travellers in the north- 
rR 2 


Religion. 


* E32 


‘ NORTHWESTERN AMERICAs 


CHAPTER west, It appears that the savages generally compose their 


mythology in the folowing manner. First a great manitou; 
or superior genius, governs the-earth and the aerial meteors, 
the visible whole of which constitutes the universe of a sa- 
vage. This great manitou, residing on high, without any 
clear idea where, rules the world, without giving himself 
much trouble ; sends rain, wind, or fair weather, according 
to his fancy ; sometimes makes a noise to amuse himself ; 
concerns himself as little about the affairs of men as about 
those of other living beings that inhabit the earth ; does 
good without taking any thought about it; suffers ill to be 
perpetrated, without its disturbing his repose ; and in the 
mean time leaves the world to a destiny or fatality, the laws 
of which are anterior and paramount to all things. Under 
his command are:subordinate manitous, or genil, innumera- 
ble, who people earth and air; and preside over every thing 
that happens, and have each a separate employment. Of 
these genii some are good, and these do all the good that 
takes place in nature. , Others are bad, and these occasion 
all the evil that happens.to. living beings. It is to the latter 
chiefly, and almost exclusively, that the savages address 
their prayers, their propitiatory offerings, and what religious 
worship. they have, the object of which.is to appease the 
malice:of these manitous, as men. appease the. ill humour of 
morose and envious persons. They offer little or nothing 
to the good genii, because they would do neither more nor 
less good on. this. account.” 


« This fearof evil genii is one of their most habitual 
thoughts, and that by which they are most tormented. 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICAs 


Their most intrepid warriors are, in this respect, no better 
than the women and children. A dream, a phantom seen 
at night in the woods, or a sinister ery, equally alarms their 
eredulous and superstitious minds. But, as wherever there 
are dupes, knaves will start up, we find in every savage tribe 
some juggler; or-pretended magician, who makes a trade 
of expounding dreams, and negociating with the manitous 
~ the business and desires of every believer.. Notwithstand- 


ing their intercourse with the genii, the magicians are . 


greatly puzzled to explain their nature, form, and aspect. 


Not having our ideas of pure spirit, they suppose them to 


be corporeal substances, yet light, volatile, true shadows, 
and manes, after the mannér of the ancients.. Sometimes 
they and. the savages select some particular one, whom they 
suppose to reside in a tree, a serpent, a rock, or a cataract, 
and him: they make their fetish, like the negroes.of Africa. 
The notion of another life is a pretty general belief too 
among the savages. They imagine that, after death, they 
shall go into-another climate and country, where game and 
fish abound, where they can hunt without. being” fatigued, 
walk about without fear of an. enemy, eat very fat meat, 
live without care or trouble, in.short be happy in every 
thing that constitutes happiness in this life. Those of the 
north, place this climate toward the south-west, because the 
summer winds, and the most pleasing and genial tempera- 
ture, come from that quarter.”* The analogy is easily 


observable which. the religious notions of the indigenous. 
tribes of North America bear to those of the primitive: 


* Volney, p. 477—480. 


133 


CHAPTER 
Til. 


Ee 


134 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


cuaprer Grecians, to those of the barbarous hordes at present in 





Northern Asia, and indeed to those of people in a state of 
savage ignorance in every part of the world. Where Chris- 


Aian missionaries have endeavoured to propagate their doc- 


trines among the more eastern tribes, they seem to have in 


‘some degree modified the ancient and proper opinions of the 


American oboriginals ; but no real conversion to Christianity 
appears to have had place; except with an exceedingly 
small number whom the Moravians have persuaded to adopt 
the agricultural, instead of the venatic life. 

The superstition of the savages is so blended with fancied 
magic, on which, more than on drugs of any kind, they 
depend for the cure of diseases, that every thing of a reli- 
gious nature is by them termed medicine. | In feasts which 
are celebrated for religious purposes, in some of which the 
flesh of dogs, offered in sacrifice, is eaten, what is called the 
bag of medicine is opened with great ceremony, containing 
several sacred articles, one of which, in some tribes, is. a’ 


little image. A piece of furniture indispensable on such 


occasions is the sacred stem of a pipe, the smoking through 
which i is a most material part of the ceremonial. . This stem, 
kepti in reserve with reverential care, is adapted on the occa- 
sion, to a pipe filled with lighted tobacco, and transferred 
from hand to liand till each man takes a whiff. Every par- 
taker in the rite of smoking is regarded as bound by an ob- 
ligation, according to the end proposed in the giving of the 
feast. Thus, if the feast be furnished ‘by a public contri- 
bution, and war be the object, the partakers are solemnly 
enlisted for the expedition. When a chief holds a religious 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA, 


assembly at his own mansion, all persons, who join in the 
ceremony of smoking, are bound to entertain no grudge or 
hostile design against the chief, or against one another.* 
In some tribes, as among the people called Mandans and 
Minnetaries, a huge stone, conceived to be oracular, is an 
object of religious respect. When a deputation visits the 
sacred spot, the deputies perform the rite of smoking to the 
stone, and of presenting the pipe to it, and afterwards retire 
to an adjacent wood for the night. In the morning the de- 
‘stinies of the nation are found marked by a number of white 
spots on the stone. These are deciphered by connoisseurs, 
who probably had seeretly made them in the night. + 


No species of rule, which ean rightly deserve the title of 
government, has place among the savage aboriginals in the 
interior of North America. In each tribe or nation all men 
are perfectly equal in political power. None can have any 
authority to command, nor can any one have influence, ex- 
cept by superior age, wisdom, or talents. Thus’ “the 
excessive independence of each member, and the absence 
of every social tie, from the want of all subordination and 
authority, have constituted such a turbulent and terrorist 
democracy, that it may well be ealled a real and fearful 
anarchy.”{ In all tribes are chiefs, some for counsel, some 
for war, or for both; but their authority depends wholely 
on their persuasive powers, and the opinion entertained of 
their wisdom or prowess. As all the members however 
have one interest at heart, the general welfare of the nation, 


* Mackenzie, p. xcix—ciii. ‘ + Lewis and Clarke, p, 121. 
t Volney, p. 44% on 


135 


CHAPTER 
II. 


, Government, 


136 


- WORTAWESTERN AMERICA. 


cHAPreR andas the chiefs are well known to-be actuated by no other 


By i 5 





~—— motives, whatsoever measures they recommend are mostly 
- adopted.* In many tribes are found hereditary chiefs for 


advice or counsel; but the leaders in war are selected for 
their courage, experience, and skill. Among some of the 
more southern tribes, less erratic than the northern, a few 
faint marks of advancement toward a more regular govern- 
ment, are observed.. Thus in many villages a kind of 
police is established for the preservation of internal peace. 
In each of these an authority is constantly exercised by dif- 
ferent men in succession, two or three at a time, nominated 


by the chief; an authority held so sacred, that no resistance 


is made to these officers of police, who, in the suppressing 
of quarrels or disorders, are not sparing of blows.+ 


‘The savages, of whom I am treating, attach so little of 
importance to property, that their chiefs are generally the 
poorest in the several tribes. Some indeed have imagined — 
that “no right of property exists among savages. This 
fact, though generally true, requires however some more 
‘precise distinction. Even the most vagabond and ferocious 
savage has an exclusive possession of his arms, clothes, 
trinkets, and moveables; and it is remarkable, that all 
these objects are the produce of his own labour and indus- 
try: so that the right of this kind of property, which is sacred 
among them, evidently derives from the property which 
every man has in his own body and limbs, and which con- 
“sequently is a natural property. Landed or fixed property 
is absolutely unknown in tribes which are constantly wan- 


* Weld, vol. 2, p. 273. +Lewis aud Clarke, p. 66, 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


137 


dering : but there are cases of exception among those, whom CHAPTER: 


the goodness of the soil, or any other reason has rendered 
sedentary. Among tribes who live in villages, the houses, 
built either of trunks of trees, of mud, or of stones, belong 
without dispute to the man by whom they were erected. 
There is a real property in the house, in the ground which it 
covers, and even in the garden which is sometimes annexed. 


‘It appears farther that, in certain nations, where agriculture. 


has made some progress, the children and relatives inherited 
these. Consequently there was a full and permanent right 
of property. But in other nations, at the death of the pos- 
sessor, all was confounded together, and became objects of 
division, either by lot or choice. If the tribe migrates for 
some time, and deserts its village, the individual then retains 
No positive right to the soil or the ruined hut ; but he has those 
of the first occupier, and of the labour bestowed by his own 
hands.”’* Except such pittances of ground, the whole of the 
region inhabited by the interior aboriginals may be said to 
be an immense common. — 


é 


The small and thinly scattered tribes of savages, who 


roam through, or in any manner inhabit, this immense — 


common, bear various denominations, many of which appear 
to have been whimsically, or from some fanciful concep- 
tions, bestowed on them by Europeans. These petty clans 
are commonly stiled nations, though they seldom consist of 


more than three or four hundred families each, sometimes - 


~ of not more than one hundred. ‘The tribes are generally 


* Voluey, p. 448—450% 


s 





Tribes 


138 


CHAPTER 
III. 





» Depopulation, 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


subdivided into bands, which severally bear distinctive — 
appellations. The bands are often so small as to consist 
of only three or four families each, particularly in the dreary 
northern parts, where food is. so scanty and precarious. 
The term nation is sometimes used in an extensive sense, 
as signifying a combination or system of many tribes, 
speaking the same language, and consequently supposed to 
be of kindred blood. Thus the Knisteneaux, or Kilistinons, 
extend their venatic courses from the gulf of Hudson, on the — 
northern side of the Saint Lawrence river, as far to the west 
as the Athapesco lake, and seem to be making a progress 
still farther westward. The Algonquin race, who speak 
the same language, are sometimes confounded with this 
extensive people, and are sometimes considered as under a 
separate denomination. The numerous tribes of the Che- 
pewyans, who appear to make a contrary progress to- 
ward the-east, occupy all the country between the Kilistinons 
and Eskeemoes,and extend on the eastern side of the northern 
Andes, as far to the south as the fifty-second degree of 
northern latitude on the river Columbia. The Nadowasees, 
and Assiniboins, inhabiting the plains about the Saskatshawin 
and ‘Assiniboin ‘rivers, appear to be advancing toward the 
northwest. 


The progress of. indiginal tribes toward the west and 
northwest is caused by the advance of European colonies in 
these directions ; those of the English from the east, and 
those of the Spaniards from the south, According as 
the colonists push their encroachments into the wilder- 


ness, converting portion after portion into arable ground, 


y 
4 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


the savages retire before them, together with the wild beasts, 
on whose flesh they depend for sustenance. Their numbers 
decrease still faster, froma variety of causes, than the extent 
of their hunting grounds is diminished. Even before the 
arrival of Europeans among them, their imcrease ia popula- 
tion, if increase had place, was extremely slow, not only 
- from mutual slaughter in their wars of tribe against tribe, 
but also from the infecundity of their females, and the great 
difficulty of rearing children. The infecundity of the females 
is caused by their licentiousness in celibacy, their practice 
of procuring abortion, and the Jabours and hardships im- 
posed on them by the savage tyranny of their husbands. 
The difficulty of supporting infants amid the hardships of 
savage life is such, that, when twins are born, one of them 
is commonly abandoned, and the mother takes care not to 
attempt to rear more than two or three children, suckling 
each, in succession, during two, three, or four years. Since 
their intercourse with Europeans they have decreased rapidly 
in number, principally from two causes, the introduction of 


spirituous liquors, and the infection of the small-pox. By - 


‘spirituous liquors, which, from the intemperance characteris- 
tic of savages, they swallow, whensoever procurable, so long 
as they can stand or sit, their health is undermined or 
destroyed, and quarrels arise in the rage of ebriety, in which 
they kill or. maim.one another, unless their women, which is 
generally the case,remoye all their weapons out of their reach. 
This constantly, though slowly, operating cause of depopu- 
lation is far exceeded in a horror by the temporary ravages of 
the small-pox, to check which, this people, from ignorance 
and superstition, attempt not to apply a remedy. 
s 2 


139 


CHAPTER 
Ili. 


140 


CHAPTER 
: TIT. 


eS 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


A late traveller describes the havoc known by him to have 
been made, througha great extent of country, by this ter- 


‘rible pest, “ which spread its desolating power, as the fire 


. ‘consumes the dry grass of the field. The fatal infection 


spread around with a baneful rapidity, which no flight could 
escape, and with a fatal effect that nothing could resist. 
It destroyed with its pestilential breath whole families and 
tribes, and the horrid scene presented to those, who had the 
melancholy and afflicting opportunity of beholding it, a 
combination of the dead, the dying, and such as, to avoid 
the horrid fate, of their friends around them, prepared to 


disappoint the plague of its prey, by terminating their own 
existence. The habits and lives of these devoted people, ~ 
which provided not to-day for the wants of to-morrow, must 


have heightened the pains of such an affliction, by leaving 
them not only without remedy, but also without alleviation. 
Nought was left them but to submit in. agony and despair. 
To aggravate the picture, if aggravation were possible, may 
be added the putrid carcases, which the wolves, with a fu- 
rious voracity, dragged forth from the huts, or which were 
mangled within them by the dogs, whose hunger was satis- 
fied with the disfigured remains of their masters. Nor was 
it uncommon forthe father of a family, whom the infection 
had not reached, to call them around him, to represent the 
cruel sufferings and horrid fate of their relatives, from the 
influence of some evil spirit, who was preparing to extir- 
pate their race; and to incite them to bafile death, 
with all its horrors, by their own poinards. At the same: 


- time, if their hearts failed them in this necessary act, he 


was himself ready to perform the deed of mercy with his 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 14] 


‘own hand, as the last act of his affection, and instantly cHAPTER 
to follow them to the common place of rest and refuge — 
from human evil.’* From. all concurrent causes of de- 

‘crease in their numbers, we may reasonably presume, 

that, in two or three centuries, if not much sooner, this race 

of men will have become extinct. _To form an estimate of 

their present population would be no easy task. It appears 

to be much overrated by those who assign the proportion 

‘of an individual to every twenty thousand acres, msepecially. 

in the sterile regions of the north. r 


From the modes HP savage life in this immense wilder- Life- 
ness the: population must necessarily be thin in the extreme. 
Those tribes who reside in the vicinity of the great lakes 

and rivers draw mueh of their sustenance from the fishery, “ 
although their improvident habits. prevent them from avail- 
- ing themselves effectually of this sort of nourishment : but 
far the greater number depend for subsistence on the flesh 
of deer and other such animals as they can procure by shoot- 
ing, by snares, or any other modes of the venatic art. For 
an adequate supply of this kind of food to an improvident 
family, who unsparingly gluttonize on whatsoever they 
acquire of this favourite aliment, an extensive range of ter- 
ritory is required. In the vast wilds of the north, where, 
from the prevalence of cold, the vegetation is scanty, and 
-consequently the animals, thereby maintained, compara- 
tively few, the wretched inhabitants are obliged, in small 
parties, to roam so incessantly in quest of prey, the ‘Support 


* Mackenzie; . xiv. XY. 


142 


CHAPTER 
wed Ue ., 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


of life, that any who, from weakness or fatigue, are unable 
to keep pace with the rest, are leit behind, and, if they can- 
not, by “following' the traces of their comrades, overtake 
them at ‘their resting places, are abandoned finally to their 
fate. In the more southern parts, where pasturage and 
animals ofthe chase are more copious, the inhabitants asso- 
ciate in larger bands, and are less erratic ; though there also 
they frequently change their quarters, according to their 
wants and other circumstances, removing their tents, or 
abandoning their old huts, and erecting new. In the vast 
plains toward the south the use of the horse has, since its 
introduction, rendered hunting more easy. Beside various 
other modes of obtaining their prey, they encompass on 
horseback a herd of buffaloes, and kill a number with ar- 
rows or other weapons, evading, by dexterous horseman- 
ship, the assaults attempted by the surrounding animals in 
their own defence. 


Some tribes, where the land is fertile, cultivate small 
patches of ground, in which, with the hoe, they plant maiz, 
potatoes, and other vegetables. To allure some neighbour- 
ing aboriginals from the venatic life to the agricultural, and 
thus to entice them into a state of civilization, has been zea- 
lously attempted by the Quakers of Pensylvania, that most 
benevolent of all sects of Christians. To teach them by © 
example, some persons were sent to reside among the 


‘Oneidas and Sennekas, two tribes of a confederated people, 


denominated the six nations, or more properly the five. 
The execution of this plan was attended with most pro- 
mising effects, inthe early years of the nineteenth century : 


. 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


143 


but we may reasonably fear that these effects have been CHAPTER 


unfortunately subverted by the influence of a war, since 
waged, between the British and Anglo-American govern- 
ments, in which the savage clans were, as auxiliars, involved. 
The wars indeed of the European colonists in North-Ame- 
rica against the indigenous tribes, together with the intro- 
duction of ardent liquors, haye been chiefly instrumental 
not only to prevent the improvement of this unfortunate 
race, but even, by destroying their plantations, and. driving 
them to the life of hunters, to replunge them into the savage 
state, when they had made any progress toward emerging 
from it. The countries now occupied by the Anglo-Americaus 
were, at the arrival of the first colonists, found in the pos- 
session ‘of tribes who had made progress in agriculture, 
some advancement toward civilization, and were governed 
by chiefs styled sachems, who seem to. have been vested 
with considerable authority. These clans, by their hosti- 
lities with the colonists, have been gradually exterminated, 
or driven into the interior parts, and, by the destruction of 
their nascent governments, reduced to a lower state of sa- 
vageness. Such wars were more destructive, as the con- 
test was more unequal, than those which had place among 
the savages themselves, though the latter were rendered 
more bloody, than they otherwise would have. been, by the 
greater wildness of anarchy into which the clans were 
fallen. 


In their wars is exhibited the cruelty of the savage Ame- 
ricans in its most hideous forms, and in them also are shewn, 
in their utmost stretch, those faculties of the mind and body 





Manners. 


144. 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


CRREX EX of which they are possessed. The causes of these wars are 





various, but the most frequent is an inextinguishable spirit 
of diabolical revenge, transmitted often from generation to 
generation, for the gratifying of which, by the destruction of 
the hated object, a savage sometimes, even quite alone, per- 
forms a journey of several hundred miles, through forests, 

swamps, and other tracts almost impassable, eepoied to 
hunger, thirst, and the inclemencies of the weather. T'o 
kindle the flame of vengeance in the breasts of the youth, 

when a hostile expedition is resolved by the chiefs of a tribe, 
the song of war is sung, composed in such terms commonly 
as the following. ‘The bones of our compatriots lie un- 
covered : their bloody bed has not been washed : their spi- 


rits cry out against us: they must be appeased: let.us go 


and devour their slayers: sit no longer inactive on your 
mats: lift the hatchet, console the spirits of the dead, and 
tell them that they shall be avenged.’ In their military 
expeditions, either in smaller or greater parties, their grand 
object is to destroy as many as possible of their enemies, at 
the least possible expense of lives on their own side. They 


therefore never engage in open fight, but proceed entirely 


by ambuscade and surprise, concealing their approaches 
with the utmost precaution. If their enterprise is successful, 
they bring away what prisoners they can, and also the scalps 


‘of the dead and wounded, as trophies of their triumph. The 


scalp is the hair of the head together with the skin, which, 
with a knife and their teeth, they tear from the skull with 
horrible dexterity. Some Europeans, who have been scalp- 
ed alive, have: survived: this dreadful operation, and, by 
wearing a plate of silver or tin on the crown of the head, 


# 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


for protection from cold, have enjoyed good health many 
Pare 7 


When the victors have returned home to their village or 
encampment, the prisoners are obliged to pass between two 
ranks formed by women and children, who with sticks and 
bludgeons, beat them terribly as they proceed. After this 
a selection is made of some to be consigned to death, and 


of others to be permitted to live. The men of the latter’ 
destination are presented to women who have lost their — 


husbands or sons. If they are rejected by these, they are 
inevitably doomed to death: but, if they are received, they 
become the substitutes of the deceased, whose places they 
were designed to occupy. They adopt all the enmities of 
their new associates, losing all affection for their own rela- 
tives and their tribe, whom they now regard as aliens and 
foes, and against’ whom they join in hostilities with fierce- 
ness and hatred. In fact their former tribe, considering 
then as indelibly disgraced by their captivity, would not 
receive them if they should return; which renders this 
transference of their friendship to their former enemies less 
wonderful than it might otherwise appear. 


Commonly, when a captive is consigned to death, he is 
fastened to a stake, neara pile of burning wood, and tor- 
tured by the surrounding crowd ina most dreadful manner. 
Beside other modes of torment, some apply red-hot irons to 
his limbs, and others, tearing pieces of flesh from his bones, 
roast and eat them in his presence: Avoiding to injure the 
vital parts, they sometimes prolong this infernal operation 

T 


145 


CHAPTER 
iil... 





146 


rt 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


during two dr three days. “ What is related of these terri- 
ble scenes by travellers, who have witnessed the cannibal 
joy of the actors in them, and particularly the fury of the 
women and children, and with what atrocious delight they 
emulate one another in acts of cruelty ; what they add of 


- the heroic firmness and unalterable coolness of the sufferers, 


who not.only express no sensation of pain, but brave and 
defy their tormentors with the haughtiest pride, bitterest 
irony, and most insulting sarcasms, chaunting their own 
exploits ; enumerating the friends and relatives of the spec- 
tators, whom they had slain; particularizmg the tortures 
which they had inflicted on them ; and accusing them. all 
of cowardice, pusillanimity, and ignorance in the art of tor- 
menting ; till, dropping piecemeal, and devoured alive, 
before their own eyes, by their enemies drunk with rage, 
they lose their last breath with their last words: all this 
would be incredible to eivilized nations, were not the trath 
established by incontrovertible testimony, and will some'day 
be treated as fabulous by posterity, when savages shall no 
longer exist.”* For the peculiar cruelty of these people, 
and their peculiar fortitude in braving the most horrible 
torments, we camot otherwise pretend to account than 
from the force of the most deeply. rooted habits. 


A judicious traveller, who studied the manners of the wild 
aboriginals of this vast region, speaks thus, in. endeavouring 
to develope their general character: “The American sa- 
vage, placed.on a soil abounding in grass and shrubs, find- 


- 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


ing it difficult to retain captive animals always ready to flee 
into the woods, and feeling it more pleasant to pursue them 
there, as well as more convenient to kill than to feed them, 
has been led by the nature of his situation to become a 
hunter, a shedder of blood, and an eater of flesh. Thus a 
hunter and butcher, who has had daily occasion to kill, and 
in every animal has beheld nothing but ‘a fagitive prey, 
which he must be quick to seize, he bas acquired a roaming, 
wasteful, aud ferocious disposition ; has become an animal 
of the same kind with the wolf and the tiger; has united in 


bauds or troops, but not into organized societies. Unac-. 


quainted with the ideas of property and of preservation, 
he has remained a stranger to all sentiments of family, and 
of a eare to preserve which these inspire. Confined to his 
own powers, he has been obliged to keep them incessantly 
bent to their utmost stretch; and hence an independent, 
restless, unsocial humour; a proud untameable spirit, hos- 
tile toward all men; a habitual state of excitement in con- 
sequence of permanent danger ; a desperate determination 
to risk at every moment a life incessantly threatened ; an 
absolute indifference to the past, which has been toilsome, 
‘and to the future, which is uncertaia ; and lastly an exist- 
ence wholly confined to the present. ‘These individual man- 
ners, forming the public manners of the tribes, ‘have ren- 
dered them equally thriftless, greedy, and continually under 
the yoke of necessitousness, and have occasioned the ‘habi- 
tual and encreasing want of extending their rights of chase, 
the frontiers of their territory, and invading the domains 
of others. Hence more hostile habits without, and a more 
constant state of a war, irritation, and cruelty.” 


gp 2 


V4 


—— 





M8 NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. — 


CHAPTER i. The habit of shedding blood, or of merely seeing it 
~—~—-——--- shed, corrupts every feeling of humanity: but to this are 
added several other causes, arising both from the subject 
itself, and from its concomitants, which have a powerful 
effect. First, the spirit of personality which every savage 
carries with him to war; a. selfishness founded on this, that 
every individual of the tribe, from the Jand being in com- 
mon, considers the game in general as the fundamental 
means of his own subsistence, and consequently deems 
every thing that tends to destroy this as attacking or threat- 
ening his own life. Among savage clans, poor and few 
in number, war directly endangers the existence of the 
whole society, and of each of its members. | Its first effect 
is to famish, its next to exterminate the tribe. It is equally 
natural therefore, that every member should identify him-— 
self intimately with the whole, and display an energy car- 
ried to the utmost, since it is stimulated by the extreme- 
necessity of defence and self-preservation. A second rea- 
son of the animosity of these wars is the violence of pas- 
sions, such as the point of honour, resentment, and ven- 
geance, with which every warrior is inspired. The num- 
ber. of combatants being small, every one is exposed tothe - 
eyes both of his friends and enemies. Every act of cowar- 
dice is punished with infamy, the near consequence of 
which is death ; and courage is stimulated by the rivalry 
of companions in arms, the desire of revenging the death 
of some friend or relative, and every personal motive of 
hatred and pride, often more powerful than self-preservation.”” 


«The third reason is the nature of these wars, in which 
quarter is neither given, received, nor expected. The least 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


149 


danger is the loss of life, for, if the savage be only wounded CHAPTER 


or made prisoner, the sole prospect before him is that of 
being scalped immediately, or burned alive and eaten in a 
few days. His fortitude under torments is stimulated by 
despair, and the sense of the impossibility of saving himself 
by retraction or weakness. He resembles ‘those animals, 


which, attacked in their last’ retreat, defend’ themselves‘ 


without any hope of escape; and we know what prodigious 


efforts nature will then display in the weakest and most | 


timid. In the savage it is the accumulated action of fana- 
ticism and necessity: but a very interesting physiological 
problem nevertheless remains. still to be resolved, namely, 
what is that singular state of the nerves, what that movement 
of the electric fluid, by which sensibility is deadened, or ex- 
alted to such a pitch as to.annihilate pain? The last mo- 
tive to ferocity. in the wars of the savages, and in their entire 
character, is the whole system of their education, and the 
direction which © parents endeavour to. give their inclina+ 
tions from the earliest age:” i 


“From their infant state they endeavour to promote an 
independent spirit. They are never known to-beat or scold 
them, lest the martial disposition which is to adorn their 
_ future life and character, should be weakened. It is to pro- 
cure more intrepid defenders that mothers thus spoil their 
children, who, at some future day, according to the general 
practice of these people, will despise, domineer over, and 
even beat them. Sometimes they spend their evenings in 
- relating the noble deeds of their relatives, or of the heroes 
of their tribe: how in their lives they killed, scalped, and. 


150 


CHAPTER 
I, 


| NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


bummed such a number of their enemies: or how, having 
had the misfortune to be taken prisoners, they endured the 
most horrible torments with the proudest bravery. At other 
times they entertain them with the domestic quarrels of the 
tribe, their causes of complaint against some of their neigh- — 
bours, and the precautions to be taken to revenge them 
‘opportunely. Thus they give them at once lessons of dis- 
simulation, cruelty, hatred, discretion, vengeance, and blood- 


thirstiness. They never fail of seizing the first opportunity 


of a prisoner of war, to have their children present at the 
punishment, to tutor them in the art of tormenting, and to 
make them partakers in the canibal feast, with which these 
scenes terminate. It is obvious that such lessons must make a 
profound impression on a young mind. Accordingly their 
constant effect is to give the young savages an intractable, 
imperious, rebellious disposition, averse to all contradiction 
and restraint, yet dissembling, knavish, and even polite ; for 
the savages have a code of politeness, not less established than 
that of a court. In short, they contrive to make them unite 
all the qualities necessary to attain the object of their pre- 
vailing passion, the thirst of revenge and bloodshed. Their 
frenzy in the last point is a subject of astonishment and 
affright to all the whites who have lived with them.” 


“On the whole it may be said, that the virtues of the 


_ savages are reducible to intrepid courage in danger, unsha- 


ken firmness amid tortures, contempt of pain and death, 
and patience under all the anxieties and distresses of life. 
Doubtless these are useful qualities; but they are all con- 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA, 


fined to the individual, alf selfish, and without any benefit 
to the society. Farther they are proofs of a life truly 
wretched, and a social state so depraved or null, that a man, 
neither finding nor hoping any assistance from it, is obliged 
to wrap himself up in déspair, and endeavour to harden 
himself against the strokes of fate. In pursuing my inves- 
tigation [ do not find that I am led to more advantageous 
ideas of the liberty of the savage. On the contrary, I see 
in him only the slave of his wants, and of the freaks of a 
sterile and parsimonious nature. Food he has not at hand : 
rest is not at his command: he must run, weary himself, 
and endure hunger and thirst, heat and cold, and all the 
inclemency of the elements and seasons; and as the igno- 
rance, in which he has been bred, gives him, or leaves him 


a multitude of false and irrational ideas, and superstitious - 


prejudices, he is likewise the slave of a number of errors 
and passions, from which civilized man is exempted, by the 
science and knowledge of every kind which an improved 
state of society has produced.”* 


With the affectation of insensibility uhder the most tremen- 


dous sufferings the apparent apathy of the savages, in the’. 


concerns of life in general, seems to have connexion. They 
express no surprise at the sight of any object, howsoever 
new or extraordinary, no joy at the meeting of the nearest 
relatives, nor grief at their departure, and receive both good 
and bad news with seeming indifference. Howsoever fa- 
mished, they betray no symptom of hunger; but, when 


* Volney, Pe 446—469, 


151 


CHAPTER 
If. 


152 


NORTE ESTER AMERICA. 


CHAPTER arrived at the huts of their friends where they expect their 
Semaine _ cravings to. be satisfied, they sit in apparent ease, waiting 


patiently, without asking for any, till food be offered them. 
Consonant with their habitually affected apathy is the gra- 
vity of their deportment. They maiutain a serious ca 
solemn air, at least before strangers. They never interrupt 
any person in speaking, and ae in general behave with a 
kind of politeness, which shews a habit of avoiding to give 
offence. They are hospitable in a high degree, sharine un- 
reservedly their food with visitants to the last morsel: but 
this may be ascribed in great measure to their improvident 
disposition, as theyare apt to consume with a thouglitless pro- 
digality the provisions of the day, without any regard to the 
danger of posterior famine. Their prodigality is accompa- 
nied by an indolence, from which they can only be roused by 


the calls of hunger, or the thirst of revenge, in which case 


they display the most vigorous persevering exertions. From 
indolence and a want ofa sense of decency they are filthy in 
their persons, huts, and food, and commonly swarm with 
vermine, which they eat. as a delicacy as fast as they can 
catch them. 


The insensibility, which the savages affect under their own 
sufferings, is real with respect to the sufferings of others. 
The feelings of compassion appear to be wholly strangers 
to their breasts. Of the treatment of their prisoners I have 
spoken already. A cruelty characteristic of savage man- 
ners is also displayed in the treatment of females, to whom 
is consigned the carrying of burdens, and every other spe-_ 
cies of drudgery ; while the men disdain to carry any thing 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA, 


except their arms, and never lend assistance to alleviate the 
hardships of the weaker sex. They are liable besides to 
various maltreatment, to be unmercifully beaten, maimed, 
and even murdered, by their brutal husbands. Hence fre- 
quently mothers, to save their female offspring from a life 
of such misery, extinguish the vital spark immediately at 
the birth. Inured to cruel treatment, these females are 
cruel in their turn, To join with frantic rage in the tor- 
turing of a prisoner, and in the killing of a captive woman 
or child, by their own hands, they feel a quite favourite 
amusement. The appearance indeed of pain, or distress of 
any kind, affords commonly a subject of enjoyment, or mirth 
and laughter, to both sexes. From their inferiority in 
strength and courage women are accounted inferior beings. 
That no value is set on female chastity may partly perhaps 
have arisen from this principle. Licentious amours in her 
years of celibacy are not at all regarded as faults in a fe- 
male. At some of the feasts, at least among the more 
southern. tribes in this region, the most immodest exhibi- 
tions are made, of the intercourse between the sexes, in the 
view of all the company. Men prostitute their wives, 


without scruple, to strangers. This is a usual act of hos- 


pitality to guests.. Yet if a wife indulges a galant without 


her husband’s. permission, she. is liable to be most cruelly 


punished by her savage lord, who perhaps bites the nose 
from her face, or puts her to death. Polygamy is in gene- 
ral practice, and the exchanging of wives between man and 
man is also usual. 


154 
CHAPTER 


Customs, 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICAc 


Among the customs of the people of whom Tam treating 
is the ceremony of marriage, which varies in different tribes, 


_ but the most general mode appears to be the following. 


After a feast on the occasion, the two persons intended to 
be joined in matrimony stand holding a wand about four 
feet long, at opposite extremities, in the presence of three , 
or four males and as many females. When they have made 
a declaration of their affection and intention, the wand is 
broken into pieces, in number equal to that of the witnesses, 
of whom each takes a piece, and preserves it with great 
care. ‘When they determine on a divorce, the witnesses, in 
the presence of a company assembled. for the business, 
throw these pieces into the fire, by which ceremony the 
union is considered as dissolved. At weddings, and on 
other occasions, dancing is a custom. Different dances are 
appropriated to different affairs, and these again vary in the — 
different tribes ; but to convey to readers a clear conception 
of the differences would perhaps be impossible, and of little 
utility. The dance of the pipe, which is performed at the — 
arrival of ambassadors of peace from a hostile clan, or on 
the passage of an eminent stranger through their villages, 
is the most pleasing to Europeans, as being attended with 
more graceful movements, or less violent gestures, than 
others. The dance of war, exhibited in preparing fora 
hostile expedition, or after its completion, is terrific in the 
extreme, as its motions are designed to represent the modes 
of killing, scalping, and other acts of ferocity, accompanied 
by those hideous yells which they raise in real combat, 
while their weapons are so brandished, that to avoid being 


Cd 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA, 


wounded by one another requires expertness or address ‘in 
the highest degree. Women in general are excluded from 
joining with the men in dances, but they have some appro- 
priated to their sex, which they perform apart. 


The pipe of peace, called calumet, which is smoked with 
the most solemn formality at the settling of pacific treaties, 
or at the reception of friendly strangers, consists of a bowl 
of red marble, and a wooden stem about four feet long, cu- 
riously painted with hieroglyphics, and adorned with the 
most beautiful feathers of birds. The decorations are dif- 
ferent in the different tribes, which are easily distinguished 
at first sight, of their calumets. When a treaty of peace 
is concluded, a painted hatchet or club is buried in the 
ground, to denote that all annimosities have ceased between 
the contending parties. |Treaties are recorded by belts of 
wampum. The substance thus nameu is the inside of a shell 
called the clam, found in the Atlantic, on the coast of North 
America. At present this is sent to England, where it is 
manufactured into beads, which are sent back, and sold to 
the savages, The beads are of two sorts, the white and 
the violet coloured, or purple. The latter, which are es- 
teemed equivalent in value to their weight in silver, are 


more esteemed. ‘They are sometimes sewed, in various ar- 


rangements, on broad belts of leather, but are more 
commonly formed into strings on thongs drawn through’ 
them, ten, twelve, or more of which, according to the 
importance of the business compose a belt. These 


u2 


155 


. CHAPTER 
Hit. 


156. 


CHAPTER 
Til, 


(EE ee 


Arts, 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


belts ate produced at particular periods, and the trea- 
ties, of which they are the memorials, are severally recapi- 
tulated, for the recording of them in the memory. The 
customs which regulate the giving of proper names, for the 
designation of individuals, appear not clearly explicable. 
Children commonly bear the name of the mother, not of the 
father, as the parentage cannot be so doubtful on the female 
side. The name also of the tribe or band, which is mostly that 
of some animal, is generally retained. Appellations or titles 
are, besides, conferred on chiefs and distinguished warriors, 
after their arrival at the age of maturity, which bear a refe- 
rence to the hieroglyphic mark of their families, or to their 
superior abilities or exploits. At funerals they inter without 
burning, and commonly destroy all the personal property 
of the deceased. In mourning they cut short the hair, and 


| blacken the face with charcoal. 


Among the artsof the savages of North America we may 
perhaps reckon that by which they find their way through 
forests, swamps, and other pathless wilds. In this they 
are by some supposed to surpass all other people on our 
globe : at least they are doubtless surpassed by none. The 
point at which they aim, though hundreds of miles distant, 
they arrive at by a direct. or, undeviating course. This ex- 
pertness, so surprising to Europeans, is doubtless the result 
of early and incessant habit, and of an undistracted atten- 
tion. Among the phenomena, by the observation of which 
they distinguish the different points of the compass, is the 
appearance of the trees. The bark, on the northwestern 


“NORTHWESTERN AMERICA, 


side, exposed to piercing winds from that quarter, is thicker 
and harder than elsewhere on the tree, and of a different 
colour. They shew not less expertness in the pursuit of 
men and quadrupeds, whose traces they follow with astonish- 
ing sagacity. From their ability thus to traverse vast spaces 
of land, in various directions, to the intended spots, we may 
naturally suppose, which indeed we are informed to be the 
fact, that they are in general well acquainted with the geo- 
graphy of their country, or the relative situations of its diffe- 
rent parts. Of the arts of reading and of writing they are 
totally ignorant. Events are recorded in the memory, 
which, in political transactions, is assisted by belts of wam- 
pum and some rude hieroglyphics. They reckon their 
years by winters, or, as they term them, snows ; and the 
number of days consumed in a journey they call so many 
nights. ‘They divide the year into twelve moons, or lunar 
months, which they denominate from some circumstances 
attendant on the seasons. Thus the moon of frogs has place 
in May, and the moon of intense cold in January. | An in- 
tercalary month, termed a lost moon, is occasionally added 
when an aberration from the true or solar year becomes 
strikingly evident, which is commonly observed at the end 
of a period of thirty moons, 


In medicine they are acquainted with some simples of 
great efficacy ; but the powers of these are often frustrated 
by superstition: Thus the patientis prevented from the 
refreshment of sleep, or of any sort of repose, by the noise 
of incessant rattles, employed to frighten away the malig- 


157 


CHAPTER 
ft. 


158 
CHAPTER 
IL. 


. 


‘NORTHWESTERN AMERICA.” 


uant spirit, who is imagined to be the author of the malady, 
and to be continually on the watch to renew the aggression: 


In some cases of distemper, particularly of the feverish 


kinds, a mode of cure is practiced of the same nature with 
the Russian manner of bathing, which sometimes causes 
death, and sometimes recovery. The patient is thrown into 
a violent perspiration in a heated hut, and thence suddenly 
plunged into cold water or snow. ‘They have instruments 
of music, among which is a species of flute : but, instead of 
regular tunes, they produce from them only wild or uncon- 
nected notes. Their mechanical arts are few and simple ; 
but by time and attention they form some utensils in a neat 
and curidus manner. . Thus. baskets are made of so close a 
contexture as to contain water, in the same manner as a pail 
or bowl. Their weapons are often very nicely ornamented : 
but the bow, except in remote parts toward the west, is from 
commerce with Europeans, superseded by the gun. The 
tomahawk, a peculiar weapon, is a hatchet of small size, to 
which a pipe for the smoking of tobacco is often attached. 
This, though they seldom suffer it to part from the hand, 
they can throw with such dexterity as to hit a small mark, 
at the distance of ten yards, with the forepart, which. pro- 
jects, and terminates in a sharp point. Their canoes, 
which are constructed of the bark of the birch, the elm, and 
other trees, bound firmly on a slight frame-work of wood, 
are. remarkable for their lightness. A boat of: this kind, 
which carries twelve men on the water, may be carried by 
one on the land. In such frail vessels, which beara cargo 
of a tun-or more jn weight, beside - the crew, voyages are 


’ 


NORTHWESTERN AMERICA. 


performed of hundreds of miles, sometimes two or three 
thousand, along the lakes and rivers of these immense re- 
gions. Other species of canoes are also in use, among 
which are trunks of great trees hallowed into the form of 
slender boats, and pointed at the extremities.* 


~ 


* Beside the writings of travellers already quoted concerning the man- 
ners, &c. of the Savage Americans, a multitude of others might be adduced, 
as those of Carver, Long, Adair, Bernard Romans, Hearne, &. &c, _ 





Saagites Rice 


of aeAe aie 





CHAPTER IV. 








GREENLAND 


161 


IS of great, but unknown, dimensions, its extent to CHAPTER 


the north* being yet unexplored, nor is it decided whether. 
it be entirely environed by water, but it is more probable 


that it is joined on the northwest to the American continent, - 


and ought rather to be accounted an American than an 
European region. Vast masses of dazzling ice fill the 
surrounding seas, partly floating and partly fixt, and dis- 
playing a strange variety of fantastic forms. Islands innu- 
merable of various sizes border the coasts, which are deeply: 


_ * Navigators have sailed on its western side as far as the 78th degree of 
latitude, and on the eastern as far as the 80th. 


+ The most noted field of fixt ice is that which is called the Eisblink or 
Iceglance, situate on the western coast between the 62d and 63d degrees. 
It is an high field of shining ice, resembling a vast arched bridge, extending 


twenty-four miles in length and six in breadth across the mouth of an inlet... 


Its glance in the air is seen like an Aurora Borealis at the distance of many 
leagues, and its arches, through which the water returns in strong currents 
at the tide of ebb, are from 40 to 120 feet high. 


{ 
x . 


IV 





162  @REENLAND. 


CHAPTER indented by many inlets. Its shores are generally high and 
oe rocky, especially on the western side, and there more espe- 
cially towards the south; and the mountains, which every 
where fill the land, rise close to the sea shores, craggy, 
pointed, and of great elevation, their summits being visible 
to mariners at the distance of forty leagues.* These moun- 
tains, and with them all the interior country, are covered 
with perpetual ice and snow; but the lower grounds on 
the coasts appear in summer clothed with a kind of ver- 
dure.¢ Few brooks and'no rivers water these rugged re- 
gions, and the interior country is totally uninhabited. 
Greenlanders dwell: along the western: coasts as far to the 
north asthe 75th degree of latitude, nor is it certainly known. 
whether any people subsist in these countries still nearer to 
the pole. A few Danes are settled along the same coasts 
as far as the 71st degree; but the eastern coasts, though 
formerly open to navigators, and actually settled by a Nor- 
wegian colony in the ninth century, are now se blockaded 
with ice as to be inaccessible to ships, and as a passage to 
them by land from the western side through the icy moun- 
tains of the interior country; is also impracticable, it is not 


* The Hiertatak or stag’s horn, situate on the western coast about the 
64th degree, and reckoned the highest mountain of a eawaneiang is seen at the 
distance of 60 atin at sea. 


4 


; + The Norwegians, who discovered this country in the ninth century, 
gave it the name of Greenland, because they affected to think that the easiern 


coast, on which they first arrived, appeared more green than Iceland, from 
which island they had last departed, 


GBAESI AIA 


< 


163 


certainly known, whether these eastern shores have, at = CHAPTER 


sent, any inhabitants or not. 


_ Here, asin other jibe situate in high latitudes, two sea 
sons only divide the year, the spring and autumn being ex- 
eluded. ‘That which is called the summer is commonly of 


five months duration, from the beginning of May tothe end 


of September, during great part of which time about the 
solstice there is continually day, for to the north of the are- 
tic circle the sun remains many weeks together without 
setting, and tothe south it disappears but a few hours, and 


then so strong a twilight reigns, that by its aid alone a man 


can see well enough within doors to read the smallest print 
at midnight. The noontide heats in the longest days are 


scorching, in calm weather and in places where the sun’s_ 


beams concentre, but in general the Greenland summer is 
neither very warm nor comfortable. The snows remain 
even on the shores until June, and begin to fall again in 
August and September. Thick fogs envelope the coasts 
from April to August; and the cold emitted by the vast 
masses of permanent ice is always chilling at night, or when 
the sun is low in the horizon. ‘The winter of seven months 
duration is altogether rigorous, all being involved in depths 
of iceand snow. The. frost-smoke issues from the sea like 
the smoke of an oven, and feels less cold to a man immersed 
in it than the dry air around; but when it is wafted into a 
colder region of the atmosphere it is‘converted into the frost 
shower, being frozen into small icy particles, which, driven 
on land by the winds, bring with them a cutting cold almost 
insupportable. The subtile snow dust, with which the air 


x 2 


= 





164 


CHAPTER 
IV. 





GREENLAND. 


is filled when the snows are drifted by the winds, is not’ more 
tolerable. Night with little interruption invests the skies 
for some months, the sun but peeping two or three hours 
above the horizon in the south, and not appearing at all for 
many weeks together in the north; but, besides the twi- 
tights, such is the brightness of the moon and stars,’ which 


shine in those northern climes with superior lustre, and such 
the splendor of the Aurora Borealis that.a man can see well 


enough in the open air to read. ‘The sea is generally open 
notwithstanding the intense cold, permitting the Greenlan- 


ders to pursue their’ occupations of fishing and seal-hunting, 


on which their subsistence depends ; but-when it happens 
that, for two or three weeks together,» a continued sheet of — 
ice spreads from the shores many leagues over the sea, navi- 
gation is precluded, and ‘famine is the consequence. .The 
parhelion or mock sun, so frequently seen in arctic climates, 
is particularly often seen in Greenland, as. also the halo or 
luminous circle about’ the moon. It is: remarkable. that 
when the winter is uncommonly severe in the temperate cli- 


‘mates of Europe, it is mostly uncommonly mild in Green- 


Jand, and vice versa. It is also remarkable that the springs 
or wells in Greenland rise ‘and fall regularly with the tide, 
being higher at the tide of flood than the tide of ebb, and 
highest of all at spring’ tides. Lightning is rarely seen, 
thunder more rarely heard, and calm weather predominates, 
and that more in proportion as the country approaches’ the 
pole, but when storms come, which is generally:i in maecien 
they blow with irresistible fary: i 


\ 


The earth in these regions, rendered sterile by the cold, 
yields hardly. any ‘vegetable for the ———- #3 man,._ 


GREENLAND. 


ap with a promising appearance, but was always destroyed 
by the frost before it could attain maturity. Some low 
shrubs appear, but the country is entirely destitute of trees, 
which defect kind providence has in some measure supplied 
by drift wood, which is conveyed to the coasts by the winds 


and waves. Some spots of ground upon the coasts, acci- | 


dentally manured about the dwellings of the Greenlanders, 
produce grass of so nutricious» a quality that it has 
fatted a few sheep, brought from, Denmark; to. an uncom- 
-mon degree, in an.uncommonly short time ; but in. general 
the surface is barren sand or stones instead of soil, and moss 
of various kinds the predominant growth, and in advancing 
towards the pole nature wears gradually a more barren 
aspect, until at length all vegetation ceases, and nothing 


meets the eye but naked rocks. The animal productions of 


the land arealso scanty ; besides a few rein-deer, hares are 
found which are white all the year, and:a kind of partridges 


~‘ealled snow hens, which are: grey in‘summer’ and white in | 


winter; but the two last are not esteemed as food by the 
Greenlanders, who prefer to them the flesh of foxes. The 
only tame animals are dogs, which howl instead of barking, 
are like. wolves,in appearance, and.are mostly white ;, they 
are chiefly used as beasts of burden ;\ from four to ten-of 


them, harnessed to a sledge, draw the Greenlander in state — 


along the ice. But, to eompensate in some degree for the 
penury of the land, the seas are prolific, and furnish great 
numbers of water fowl, fish, and seals, which constitute al- 
most the whole subsistence of the Greenlanders, and in. the 


catching of which they display surprising feats of dexterity... 


165 


corn has been frequently sown, and as frequently grown CHAPTER | 





(166 


CHAPTER 





GREENLAND, 


The king of Denmark claims the dominion of these frozen 
deserts, and some of his subjects from Denmark and Nor- 
way are settled on the western coasts, wlio trade in seals’ 
blubber, skins, and eider down ; vessels also from different 
European nations, particularly Holland, are employ’d in 
the Greenland seas, every summer, in the whale fishery.* 


The Greenlanders, who inhabit the western coasts, and 
who are the same kind of people with the Esquimaux on 
the opposite coast of America, have been computed not 
much to exceed 7000, and their number decreases yearly + 
They are of low stature, most of them not reaching to the 


* The whale, though a fish, has red warm blood like that of land animals, 
and, like them, is furnished with lungs for breathing, brings forth its young 
alive, and suckles them. Of this fish there are many varieties, but that - 
which is called the black or Greenland whale is generally from fifty to eighty 
feet long, and some have been found from one hundred to. two hundred 
feet. It is nota fish of prey like some other species of the whale, but feeds 
ona whitish slime, which floats on the surface of the sea, Its throat is not 
more than four inches wide, and its mouth is destitute of teeth, but its upper 
jaw is furnished with about 700 barders, or blades, of which the whalebone 
ismade. These barders are shaped like scythes, hang down like the pipes 
of an organ, ten or twelve feet in length, and are received into the under 
jaw, hollowed for that purpose, as into asheath. These whales abound most 
between Spitaberg, Nova Zembla, John May’s Island, and Greenland, 
where near four hundred ships have been employed in one summer in pursuit 
of them. 


+ Their number in the year 1730, was said to be 30,000, and in the year 


1746, 20,000; so that they decreased one-third in 16 yenns but the de- 


crease afterwards seemed more rapid. 


GREENLAND. 


height of five feet, and have also the appearance of imbe- 
cility, but are notwithstanding active and strong. The 
colour of the face is olive, and the body all over is dark 
grey. The hair of the head is universally long, strait, 

strong, and coal black, but the beard is very thin, it being 
‘the custom to pull it out by the roots. The head i is large ; 
the face commonly broad and flat; the cheek bones high ; 

the cheeks round and plump; the eyes small and black, 
but void of sparkling fire ; the nose not flat, but small and 
projecting a little: the mouth commonly little and round, 

the under lip somewhat thicker than the upper. The hands 
and feet are small, soft, and clammy to the touch like bacon: 
the rest of the limbs large: the breasts high, and shoulders 
broad, especially in women, all of whom are obliged, from 
. their early years, to carry heavy burdens, and so robust are 
these females, that one of them commonly carries a load for 
some miles, which would be almost sufficient for two Eu- 
ropeans to lift. The bodies of both men and women are 
fleshy, fat, and full of blood. Their blood is unctuous, hot, 
and dense ; the steam emitted from their bodies in perspi- 
ration is hot and smells. like train ; and the vapour, which 
they breathe out from their hings, is hot and dense, inso- 
much that when many of them are assembled in one apart- 
ment, even in winter, an European can scarcely bear the 


heat, or breathe for the thick exhalation. They suffer the — 


_ rigorous cold of their climate with but thin covering, and 
with their heads and necks generally bare ; and they sit in 
their houses mostly without any covering at all iba their 
breeches, 


167 


CHAPTER 
IV. 





168 


CHAPTER 
ee 





GREENLAND, 


The Greenlanders are not very lively, much less addicted . 


to extravagant effusions of mirth, but are cheerful when 


assembled in companies, and live together in surprising 
harmony without any form of government or religion; the _ 
law of reputation being’ the only restraint on their morals. 
Whatever superstitious fancies: prevail in their minds, it is 
certain there is no form of religious worship among them, 
excepting the Christian converts of the Moravian. brethren, 
who have with wonderful perseverance brought some 
hundreds of these poor people to the profession of the 
Christian religion. Though they are very hospitable and’ 


- courteous to strangers, they have much pride, the consequence 
_ of much ignorance, and value themselves much above the 


Europeans, concerning’ whom. they talk with much ridicule 
in conversation among themselves. Their names for num- 
bers are continued no farther than five, but, by reckoning 
the fingers of both hands, and toes of both feet, some make 
ashift to number twenty, which is the extent of their arith- 


5 ‘metic. They are. extremely dirty in their way of living; 


their common every day-clothes drip with grease, and swarm 


with lice, which they crush between their teeth when they 


catch them: their vessels are no otherwise cleansed than by 
the tongues of their dogs; and when any of them presents a 
piece of meat:to.a person whom he means'to treat with par- 
ticular politeness, he, previously licks it over clean with his 
tongue. Few of the Greenlanders live many years in one 
place, but remove in the summer from one part.of the coast 


to another, fixing their winter quarters in whatever place 


seems. most convenient. Among them, as in other rude 
nations, the carrying of burdens and other laborious works 


GREENLAND. 


are left to the women, the providing of food by fishing and 
seal-hunting being the prayince of the men. 


That which may be called the shirt of the Greenland- 
ers is’ made of the skins of birds, the feathers inward: 
over this is a kind of vest mostly of seals’ skin, and over 
that a coat of seals’ skin, which is sewed up close to 


the chin, without any opening either before or behind, 


169 


CRATER 


SID... 4 lel 


but is drawn down over the head like a shirt, the arms . 


being thrust up into it. The breeches are of seals’ skin, 
very short both above and below. The stockings are of 
the skin of young seals found in the bellies of their dams, 
and the shoes of seal skin bound over the instep by a thong 
which passes under the sole beneath. Over all, the men 


wear a large outside garment of seals’ skin called a water 


coat, furnished with bone buttons when they go to sea. 


The dress of the women is nearly the same, but the nurses _ 


wear an outside garment bound round the waist with a 
belt, so wide behind that the child has room to lie within it 
at the woman’s back, and is prevented by the belt from 
falling through. Here the infant tumbles entirely naked 
without any other swaddling clothes or cradle. The men 
cut their hair short, but the women wear it long. 


e Greenlanders dwell during the winter in houses, and 
during the summer in tents.. 


The houses are built on steep rocks or elevated grounds, | 


where they may not be incommoded by the afflux of water 
when the snows dissolve. There is no part of the house 
¥ 


10 


GREENLAND. z 


bia la under ground, and it is raised no higher than barely to ad- 
———— mit a man to stand upright. These habitations are near 


twelve feet wide, and of various lengths, up to seventy feet, 
in proportion to the number of families crowded together in 
one house, which is from three to ten. The walls are com- 


posed of broad stones and earth, and the roof of rafters laid 


acrossa longitudinal beam,whichis supported by postsdriven 
in the ground midway between the side walls. On the raf- 
ters are laid billberry bushes, over them sods, and over these 
fine earth. These dwellings have neither door nor chim- 
ney, but the use of both is supplied by a vaulted passage 
from twelve to eighteen feet long, made of stones and earth; 
entering into the middle of the house, and so low that a 
man must creep to enter. On the same side are windows 
two feet square, made of guts of seals or maws of fish ; and 
under them a long bench for the accommodation of strangers, 
which is esteemed the most honorable seat in the house. 
Half the floor opposite to the windows is raised a foot higher 
than the rest with boards and skins, and divided into as 
many distinct apartments as there are families, resembling 


horses’ stalls, and separated by skins drawn from the posts, 


which support the roofing beam, to the wall. The only 
fires ever lighted in these houses are lamps, one of which 
stands constantly burning at the partition post of each fa- 
mily, cut out of soft bastard marble, about a foot Jong, in 


form of an half moon, filled with: train of seals, and furnished 
_with dry moss instead of cotton, which burns’so well, that, 


from the junction of so many lamps, the house is sufficiently 
lighted and sufficiently warmed. Over each lamp hangs 2 


‘ 


GREENLAND. 


‘kettle of the same stuff, in shape like an oblong box, a foot - 


-long and _ a foot ne in Liem their Vietuals are boiled. 


The boats: of the Ceevtitinider are of two kinds, nid 
_serve quite different purposes. The umiak or womans 
-boat is four or five feet wide, three feet deep, and from 
.thirty-six to fifty-four feet long. It’ is flat bottomed and 
sharp at both ends. Its frame consists of ‘a keel; ribs, up- 
right posts, and laths joined together with whalebone, and 
it is covered with seals’ skins. It is rowed only by women, 
and in it the families and effects of the Greenlanders are 
transported from one- part of the coast to another, sometimes 
ae or four hundred leagues. 


The rajack or man’s boat accommodates one person 
only. It is shaped. like a weaver’s shuttle, eighteen feet 


long, hardly a foot and a half wide, and hardly a foot deep. . 


It is composed of a slender: keel, longitudinal laths, and 
transverse hoops, which go round the sides and bottom, 
joined with whalebone. It is covered with seals’ skins, 
which enclose it on all sides like a bag, leaving only one 
round hole in the upper part or deck, barely sufficient to 
admit the body of the rower, who sits with his legs stretched 
along the bottom. This hole is secured by a rim of bone, 
into which the rower tucks his water coat so tightly, that 
though billows break over him no water can enter the boat. 
He holds the middle of his oar with both hands at once, and 
strikes the water on both sides alternately, sailing at the 
rate of more than twenty leagues in the day, and making 
Y2 


“171 


CHAPTER 
LV. 





172 GREENLAND. 


~ 


cHAPTER his way through stormy waves where an European boat 
cae could not subsist, and if he be overset, so that his head 
hangs down perpendicularly in the water, he restores him- 
self and his boat to the proper posture by a swing of  his- 
oar. Armed with harpoons he: pursues the seals which are 
the chief and favourite food of these people, .and when occa- 
sion requires, he carries his little boat across a head-land. or 
field of ice, and Jaunches it again at the other side. 


SPITZBERGEN,. 


Discoveren by Sir Hugh Willoughby, an English navi- 
gator, in the year 1553, and improperly called by some 
New Greenland, and East Greenland, seems to consist of 
one great island, and many of smallerdimensions, whose 
yange towards the north is not fully ascertained, but as none 
of them advance farther towards the south:than: the 75th 
degree of latitude, the-rigours of their winter-are extreme; 
and the land as bare and barren as-the northern parts of 
Greenland lying. between the same parallels of latitude, pro- 
ducing no species of tree or shrub,. but supplied with drift- 
wood from the sea; and totally destitute- of human inhabit- 
ants, but yielding subsistence to-rein-deer and foxes, and. 
particularly visited by the white bear,* which is an unwel- 
come visitant also in Greenland. The coasts are high, and. 


* The white bear is a predacious animal, extremely: fierce and formi- 
dable, inhabiting-the arctic regions, particularly Spitzbergen. It is amphi-- 
bious, and is seen chiefly on the fields of ice where it goes in pursuit of seals, 
It is much larger than-any other species of the bear, its body being about 


the same size with that of an ox, Its head is long like a dog’s, and. its hair- 


is long and soft like wool..: 


? 


173- 


CHAPTER 
TV. 


a eee a 


yt4 - SPITZBERGEN. 


CHAPTER in many places inaccessible, especially on the west, and the 

———— face of the country is extremely rugged, and full of dusky 
mountains, which are highest also on the west, and, like 
those of Greenland, are generally so steep and sharp pointed, 
that the ice and snow, which all the year fills the vallies, 
cannot rest on them. The surrounding. seas swarm with 
whales, seals, and other marine animals, which are the ob- 
ject of pursuit to great numbers of European vessels, chiefly 
Dutch, which in summer visit these inhospitable coasts, 
whose sovereignty is vainly claimed by the king of Den- 
mark, 


CHAPTER YV. 





CANADA. 


Site—Riwvers—Face—Seasons— History—- Vegetablesmm 
Animals—Fossils—Commerce—Boats—Area— Division— 
Population— Inhabitants— Government— Religion—Man- 
ReMOrt Customs— Pravelling— Towns, 


CANADA, 


Exrenpine along the vast river Saint Lawrence, from its 


mouth in the sea of Newfoundland, westward to lake Wini- . 


pig, may be considered as having its natural boundary, on 
the northern side, in a ridge of highlands, which winds from 
the coast of. Labrador in prodigious length toward the west, 
separating the waters which flow to Hudson’s gulf from 
those which are received into the channel of the Saint 
Lawrence. Another ridge of highlands, on the southern 
‘side of that vast river, stretching southwestward, was de- 
-elared, in a treaty with the United States in the year 1783, 
to be the boundary of Canada on that side,’ so far toward 
the west as its occurrence. with the forty-fifth degree of 


175 


CHAPTER 
V. 


Site. 


MG 


CHAPTER 
¥ “ 


Rivers. 


CANADA.. 


northern latitude: thence the bounding line was conceived 
to proceed westward along the stream of the Saint Lawrence, 
and through the chain of the great lakes Ontario, Erie, Hu- 
ron, and Superior. The limit most natural however, on its 


whole southern side, would be the stream of this huge river 
and its chain of lakes. 


To the Saint Lawrence Canada owes chiefly its import- 


ance. Of this mighty stream, its immense lakes, and its 


stupendous cataract at Niagara, I have treated in the gene- 
ral view. With a breadth of from ninety miles, at its 
mouth, to fifteen, at a greater distance from the ocean, and 
with a depth of -from forty to ten or eighteen fathoms, this 
river is safely navigable by great ships of the line as far as 
Quebec, through a length of four hundred miles, by ships 
of three or four huntivall tuns, near two hundred farther, 
to Montreal, and by boats carrying two tuns several hun- 
dred miles higher, except some short interruptions which 
can be easily remedied by canals.* A great number of 
islands many of which have a beautiful appearance, are con- 
tained in the Saint Lawrence, which, above Quebec, spreads 
wide in some parts, and in others contracts into a-narrow 


and profound channel. One of the largest of the islands is. 


that of Orleans, near thirty miles long and ten broad, 
near Quebec city. 


The country is intersected by a multitude of streams, 
which are received into the Saint Lawrence on its northern 


* Gray’s Letters on Canada, 8vo. London, 1809, p. 37, 69.—Weld’s 
Travels in North America, 8vo, London, 1799, vol. 2, p, 56—58. 


gad’. 


CANADA, 


side. Many lakes of various sizes ate formed by these, 
or connected witli them,and many of the rivers are navi- 
gable by boats or canoes. The most frequented: of the 
auxiliar streams is the Utawas, or grand river, the naviga- 
tion of which, however, is so interrupted, that in the course 
of two hundred and eighty miles not less than thirty-two 
portages occur, places where the goods and boat must be 
carried on land from one part of the channel to another. 
The Chaudiere and Montmorenci, which fall into the Saint 
Lawrence, the former on the southeastern side, about seven 
miles above Quebec, the latter onthe northwestern, about 
the same distance below that city, are noted only on account 


V7 


CHAPTER 
¥. 





-of the cataracts which they form. About three miles above ~ 


its influx, the Chaudiere, in a stream two hundred and fifty 
feet in breadth, falls perpendicularly from a height of a 
hundred and thirty feet, between very steep and lofty banks, 


amid a scenery wildly picturesque. On the quantity of 


water in the channel however depends in great measure the 
erandeur of the fall, which in times. of flood appears.awfully 
majestic. ‘Fhe stream of the Montmorency, only fifty feet 
broad in its channel; is so broken at its fall by rocks, and ~ 
thus dilated, as to appear much broader. The height of 
the ¢ataract, in which the water falls almost perpendicularly, 
is found to be two hundred and forty-six feet. The stream, 
in its descent from such an elevation, appearing like -vast 
sheets of snow, forms.a fine object to mariners in the Saint 
Lawrence, to whom it is clearly visible, as having place 
almost at the influx of the Montmorenci.* . 


* Gray 87—99. Weld, vol. 1, p. 319, 357—360, 
| Z 





8° : | CANADA. 
CHAPTER — Canada may in great part be considered as the valley of 
a the Saint Lawrence. This is particularly the case with 
Lower Canada, one of the two provinces into which this 
~ great country’is politically divided, by a line imagined to 
run northwestward along the Utawas river. Here the 
~ country is enclosed between two very long ridges of high- 
lands, from which several branches extend quite to the Saint 
Lawrence, forming either’ promontories, or lengthened 
banks of great height and steepness. In other parts level 
spaces of various extent intervene between thé highlands 
and the river. The province of Upper Canada, lying on 
the northern side of the Saint Lawrence and its vast lakes, 
; is in general a level country, consisting of extensive plains 
bounded by hills of not a great elevation. In Canada in . 
_ general the natural features are gigantic, and fill the mind, 
at first view, with ideas of grandeur : the vast and admirably 
‘majestic river interspersed with beautifully verdant islands ; 
_ the immense expanses of clear water in the lakes, diversified 
in like manner with islands interspersed ; the stupendous 
cataracts, particularly the unequalled fall of Niagara; the 
lofty chains of ‘mountains, clothed with wood, visible to 
those who sail along the river ; and the stately and almost 
boundless forest, fans which comparatively very little space 

has as yet been reclaimed by the industry of man. 





Face: 


The A sete foregt indeed, from the mouth of the Saint 

ite, Lawrence, through a great extent of territory. up its chan- 
nel, still, in the beginning of the nineteenth century, occu- 

‘ pies all to the river’s brink ; and even farther upward, where 
colonization and culture haye place, ‘ the strip of cultivated 


CANADA. 


179 


ground, viewed from the river, is so small, compared with \CHAPTER 
the high wood-covered mountains in the back-ground of the ————— 


picture, that itis scarcely enough to take off the appearance 
of complete savage wildness. The sombre hue of the pine 
forest is a strong contrast to the lively verdure of the corn 
fields.”* |The narow border of cultived land is however in 
some places thickly inhabited. <« Nearly all the settlements 
in Lower Canada are situated close upon the borders of the: 


rivers. For several leagues below Montreal the houses, 


stand so closely together, that it appears as if it were but 
one village, which extended the whole way. | It is pleasing 
beyond description to behold one of these villages opening 


to the view, as you sailround a point of land covered with 


trees, the houses of it overhanging the river, and the spires 
of the churches sparkling through the groves with which 
they are encircled, before the rays of the setting sun. The 
scenery in various parts is very fine. It is impossible, in- 
deed, but that there must be a variety of pleasing views along 
a noble river; the Saint Lawrence, winding for hundreds 
of miles through a rich country, diversified with rising 
grounds, woodlands, and cultivated plains:’+ In Upper 
Canada, which promises at no very distant time a more nu- 
merous population, as. being favoured with a more fertile 
soil and a warmer temperature, extensive scenes of smiling 


culture may in future ages be expected ; but as yet the célo- ) 
nized spots bear to the dreary wilderness a.quite diminutive 


st pegs 


® Gray, pe 37. °°. + Weld, vol. 1, 335, 336.. 


: B22 


180 — 


CHAPTER. 





Seasons, 


CANADA. 


in Canada are felt the extremes of heat and cold, but the 
air isin. general dry and salubrious. In the lower province 


the winter commences in November, and the earth remains 


covered, during six months, with snow, the general depth 
of which is about from four to seven feet above the surface 
of the ground. The Saint Lawrence itself is frozen quite 
over above Quebec ; but, opposite to that city, the opera- 
tions of the tide, and of the current rendered impetuous by 
confinement, are such, as to prevent that circumstance from 
taking place oftener commonlythan once in ten years. Here, 
as elsewhere in the northern climates, the cold acquires its 


greatest rigour in January, when Fahrenheit’s thermometer 
falls sixty degrees below the freezing point, sometimes even 


to that degree at which mercury freezes: but in general the 
medial temperature in this month and in December. is 
marked by twenty-two under the poiut of congelation. After 
the’ falls of snow in the early part of winter, the sky is com- 
monly clear, the sunshine bright, and, except the cold, the 
weather extremely pleasant, as in Russia: but sometimes a 
temporary thaw takes place, which is-attended with unplea- 
saht circumstances and much inconvenience. In May the 
show disappears beneath a schorehing sun, and summer, 
with a rapid vegetation, succeeds, without an interval of 


spring. In July and August the thermometer rises to eighty 


degrees, and sometimes above ninety, sometimes to ninety- 
six. The heat is more mild in September, which seems to 
be the pleasantest month, yet partakes more of the nature 
of summer than of autumn. The latter season indeed ap- 
pears not; in Lower Canaia to have any place. The frosts 


begin to be felt in October; but the influence of the sua 


CANADA, 


still continues to be such as to: render ties air in ihe diy. 
time tolerably warm.* — 66: addx 


In Upper Canada the temperature partakes of that of 
those territories of New York and Pensylvania which lie to 
the west of the great Apallachian ridge, where the cold is 
mitigated by a southerly wind, as I shall shave occasion to 
state in treating of the Virginian regions. The winter 
therefore is shorter here than in the lower province, although, 
from the superior elevation of the land, the cold might 
naturally be expected to be greater. Thus at Niagara, the 
highest part of the platform, the severity of the winter’s cold 
is felt only during about two months. Even at Montreal, 
in Lower Canada, but in the vicinity of the Upper, the 
duration of the snow is near two months shorter than at 
Quebec. This diminution of cold in these countries has 
been much promoted by the partial destruction of the 


woods, by which avenues have been opened for the admis- — 


sion of the warm southwesterly winds. Hence, from the 
extension of colonial settlements, a still further diminution 
may in future times. be expected. Even throughout the 
_ lower province the influence of this cause has already be- 
come evident, “ since the period of the river’s being closed 
against navigation by the ice is near a month later than it 
was when Canada was first colonized ; and instead of insu- 
ring vessels on condition of their leaving the river by the 


end of November, as used to be me in the beginning 


* Gray, p. 244, 253—256, 282, 299-301, 312, 313, Weld, vol. 1, 
D. 389, 398. 


18} 


CHAPTER 


Ve 


182 


ae 


CHAPTER of the last century, the blanca in the policies is now extended 
—————— to the 25th December.’* The heat of the summer. in 


History. 


Upper Canada is said sometimes to raise the mercury in the 
thermometer even above the hundredth degree. 


The Jihad of Geinndn is ascribed to Jacques Cartier, 
a French mariner, who, in the year 1535, sailed up the great 
river, to which he gave its name from having entered it on 
the day dedicated to Saint Lawrence. Of the etymology of 
Canada, the name of the country, we have no certain ac- | 
count. No permanent settlement however was formed till 
the year 1608, when Samuel de Champlain founded the city 
of Quebec, in a situation most judiciously chosen. The 
growth of the colony was slow, as it was much neglected 
by the French government, and. as the trade for furs, the 
first great object of the colonists, was fettered by monopolies ; _ 
beside that the hostilities of the Indians contributed greatly 


- to retard the progress of improvement. This progress was 
also interrupted by hostilities with the English colonists, 
who conquered. the country in 1629, but restored it on a 


treaty of pacification in 1632. In consequence of some at- 
tention given to its transatlantic subjects, by the court of — 


| France, who sent thither a small force to awe the savages. 


in 1662, the colony assumed a more thriving aspect in the 


_Jatter part of the seventeenth. century. Three expeditions, 


planned for its conquest by the English, in 1690, 1709, and 
1711, proved abortive, the two former by the treachery of 
their Indian allies, the last by the misconduct of its com-. 


* Volney’s View of the United States, 8vo. London, 1804, P. 161, 210.. 


CANADA, 


4 


mander, appointed by favouritism, without regard to merit, 
by the villainous tory ministers of Queen Anne. Though 
the Canadians eseaped a conquest, their condition, after the 
war which ended ‘in 1714, was so miserable, that many of 
them were furnished with no other apparel than the skins 


of beasts, from their inability to purchase the manufactures | 


of Europe: but afterwards, from a long enjoyment of 
peace with the English colonists and the Indians, the set- 
tlement attained a considerable degree of prosperity, inso- 
much that in the space of forty years it more than quadru- 


183 ' 


CHAPTER 
ov, 


Se ln hr 


pled its population. ‘The Indians had been conciliated by — 


the labours of the French missionaries, who, with ardent 
and indefatigable zeal, had endeavoured to convert them to 
the Roman Catholic religion, and by the condescending 
manners of the colonists, many of whom had intermarried 
with the savages, and adopted their modes of life. The 


ambition of the French court, which had formed a bold and. 


- insidious plan for the conquest of the English colonies in 
America, kindled a new war, in which Canada:was con- 
quered in 1759 by the arms of Britain. The heroic Wolfe, 
the British commander, fell at Quebec, in the moment of a 
victory, by which the contest in that country was decided. 
The possession of all Canada, resigned by France in the 
ensuing treaty of peace in 1762, has been since retained by 
the British crown. 


As the parts of this vast country as yet reclaimed by colo- 
nial labour are, in comparison of the whole, of trifling 
extent, the indigenous are still the predominant products. 
In the countless variety of useful trees, which compose an 


Vegetables; 


184 


CHAPTER 
¥. 





7 


_ CANADA, 


immense continuous forest, are observed the beech, the oak, 
the elm, the ash, the pine, the sycamore, the chesnut, the 
hiccory, the cedar, the maple, the cherry- -tree, and the birch, 
of each of which again different species are discovered. 
The pride of the Canadian forest is the white pine, which 
grows to the height of a hundred and twenty feet, with a 
diameter of four. The oak is accounted excellent, superior 
to the Scandinavian, yet, in durability, inferior to that of 
England. As this species of timber is never found other- 
wise than straight in this:country, no knees of ships can be 
made from, it ; but the roots of the pine are applied to that 
purpose. The species of maple, which yields a saccharine 


sap grows here in great plenty. The sap, extilling from a 


gash, or hole, made in the tree, and. received in vessels ° 


_ placed beneath for the purpose, is boiled till the aqueous 


parts evaporate. The residuum is a cake of coarse sugar, 


— eapable of being manufactured into as fine a sort as that of 
‘the cane. Each tree, with management, is capable of fur- 


nishing five pounds of sugar annually during twenty years. 
Two sorts of this tree are found in Canada, the one growing 
in low or swampy ground, the other in more elevated or 
dry situations. The juice of the former is more copious, 
but less rich im the quantity of sugar procurable from it. 
Among the indigenous fruits are very fine raspberries, which 
abound in the woods, and sour grapes not much larger 
than currants. Among the indigenous plants is the gin- 
seng, so highly valued by the Chinese. | 


The fruits of Europe, as apples, peaches, apricots, and 
plumbs, thrive to perfection in-the gardens, more especially 


CANADA, 


at Montreal and in Upper Canada. Ass fine grapes for the 
table as those of Portugal grow under the protection of 
frames of glass. Gooseberries, currants, and other small 
fruits, are in abimdance. The soil, generally a loose earth 
of a dark hue, ten or twelve itiches deep, with a substratum 
of cold clay, has proved very fertile in the kinds of grain 


which havé beén cultivated in it, as maize, wheat, oats, and 


barley : but the wheat alone, which is of an excellent quality, 
more ‘especially in the upper province, is sown in such 
quantities as to be an article of exportation. The sort 
commonly cultivated is that which is called spring wheat, 
committed to the ground in. May, and reaped i in August or 
September. “The farmers in the lower province, descended 
from the French, havé as yet been sloyenly, both in the 
neglect of manure, though marl is abundant, and in‘ the 
cleaning of the grain, when thrashed. The tobacco of this 
‘country is esteemed for its mildness, but the quantity 
raised is very small. ‘The soil is well adapted to the pro- 
duction of ops atid hemp. ‘The former have already fur- 
nished some siall matter for exportation, The latter, the 
culture of Which is encouraged by government, would be 
highly advatitageous to Britain, if its growth should become 
-extensive.* What may be; in future times, the agricultural 
products of this gréat arid fertile Fegion, whose colony has 
not as yet far emerged above an infantine state, we can only 
eonjecture. 


# Weld, vel.'T, 99L-S88. Stay, p: 150, 151, 198, 408-468. 


ive 7 y ele oc! we 


j85 


“CHAPTER. 





186 


CHAPTER 
a vV. 


* Animals, 


CANADA, 


The domestic quadrupeds and poultry of eee have 
been imported into Canada, and thrive in general. The 
horses are spirited and remarkably hardy. Dogs, yoked 
either singly, or in one or more pairs together, are applied 
to the drawing of carts,, and other wheeled carriages, in 
summer, and sledges in winter. Various, sorts and sizes of 
these animals are used in drawing, each with a weight pro- 
portioned to its strength : but the strongest. is a particular 
breed, resembling what is called the dog of Newfoundland, 
but broader across the loins, and with shorter and thicker 
legs. The indigenous quadrupeds are in general. the. same 
with those of the northwestern regions of America, already 
noticed ; but here they have been reduced to a compara- 
tively. diminutive number, since the establishment of a 
colony on the banks of the Saint Lawrence, by the indefati- 
gable pursuit of the Indian hunters, for the furnishing of 
furs and peltry to the demands of European merchants. 
Sometimes vast numbers of bears migrate from the more 
northern regions, through Canada, southward, crossing the 
Saint Lawrence i in its narrowest parts, particularly the straits _ 


_ between the vast lakes. This kind of migration is always 


accounted an. infallible prognostic of excessive severity of 
cold in the ensuing winter, Squirrels also sometimes, in 
like manner, changing their places of abode, pass through 
this country in prodigious numbers; but their course is 
sometimes northward, as well as in the. opposite direction. . 


Also pigeons, resembling the wood-pigeon of Britain, but 
smaller, are observed, commonly once in seven or eight 
years, to migrate from the north to the south, passing over 


° CANADA, 


187” 


the Saint Lawrence and the lakes, in numbers so immense sic ab 


as might be thought incredible. Land birds in the woods, 
and water fowl ‘on the lakes and rivers, in a great variety 
of species, are seen in vast numbers in summer ; but when 
winter comes, they almost all disappear, as the frost pre- 
cludes them from the means of subsistence. Among the few 
which remaiu in the winter is a species called by some the 
spruce partridge, by others the pheasant, which procures its 
food from the spruce fir. This’ species resembles the British 
partridge in its external appearance, except, that it is larger ; 
and the British pheasant in the taste of its flesh. These 
birds are so'stupid that, when one of a flock is killed by a 
shot, the rest remain undisturbed, insomuch that the fowler 
may shoot several waite; perhaps the whole’ flock, in suc- 
cession. | 


Among’ the reptiles of this country:is the rattle snake, 
from which however Lower Canada is said to be extempt, 
but which swarms to a very dangerous degree in ‘several 
parts of the Upper, particularly in the desert islands of the 
great lakes. The rattle snake here'is of two species. ‘The 
one, seldom longer than thirty inches, is*of a deep brown 
colour, clouded with yellow. The other, nearly twice as 
large as the former, is of a greenish yellow, clouded with 
brown. Fish, in vast variety, abound in the Saint Law- 
rence and the lakes. . “Among these is the sturgeon, which 
here is not considered -as well flavoured for food, but is 
valuable for its oil. The salmon swarms in an extraordi- 
nary degree. The Indians kill this and other species of 
large fish, with spears, at night, with the aid of torches. 

Zaz 





185, 


‘ CANADA. 


cHaptER, Of two in acanoe one steers and paddles, while the other,’ 





Fossilse 


-. standing oyer a flambeau placed in the head of the canoe,: 


strikes dexterously with his spear, the fish, iiss come ” 
around, attracted by the Nahe + 


In an where the great object on salen to bi 

agriculture, until.a more numerous, population shall have 
augmented the demands. of the. colonists, and: furnished. 
workmen for other pursuits, little attention has been given 
to, the exploring of fossil wealth, which appears to be. co- 
pious, and may, in future times furnish large matter for 
exportation, The ore of iron has been found in many 
parts, but ip one place only has a mine. of it been worked. 
That of copper. is, abundant in the remote parts of Upper 
Canada, as about Lake Superior, and in its islands, where 
it can be procured in vast quantities with little trouble. 
Even virgin copper, apparently as pure as any which has 


_ undergone the usual action of fire, has been seen in great 


plenty in several of the more eastern of these islands, and on 
the borders of a river which flows into the southwestern side 
of the lake. Among the few fossils as yet discovered may be 
noticed fine. pieces of quartz, called also rock crystal, which 
are brilliant like diamonds, and cut glass in like manner. | 
At, Quebec, at Cape Diamond, which received its name 

from these substances, great numbers might be procured, 


~ mostly of a er form; and Hopes each in @ 
point. + 


* Gray, p- 246, 911. Weld, vol. 1, p. 354, vol. 2, p. 43—46, 86, 140, 
156,163, pn ayree 


+ Gray, p. 68, wpe de ‘ly pe a77, vol. % P 7h. 


CANADA, 


18y¥ 


~ The commerce of Canada i is maititained on one side with rics’ Sega 


the Indians by canoes, and'on the other with the British 
dominions in Europe and the West Indies by ships, beside 
a considerable traffic with the people of the United States 
of North America by: boats and land-carriage. The trade 
with the Indians for peltry and furs has been already no- 
ticed in my account of Northwestern America. "Fhis trade 
has been chiefly in the hands of an association of merchants, 
styled the northwest ¢ompany, whose businéss is managed 
by men resident in Montreal. Among the skins fiipotted 


mto the country by their agents, in one year, were a hun- | 


dred and six thousand skins of béavers, thitty-two thousand 
of martens, seventeen thousand of ‘miusquashes, six thousand 
of lynxes, four thousand six hundred of otters, and three 


thousand eight hundred of wolves. The supply of this 


merchandize must, in course of time, diminish, according 
to the decrease in the number of quadrupeds by the activity 
_ of the hunters. ‘The skins and furs, procured from the In- 
dians of the northwestern regions, in exchange for blankets, 
guns, ammunition, spirituous liquors; and other articles, 
constitute a very considerable part of the exports of Canada 


to Europe. Among a great variety of other exports are — 


wheat, flour, and timber. ‘Fhe imports consist chiefly of 
manufactured goods of various kinds, such as non-manufac- 
turing colonists must be expected to require. The trade 


has employed already two hundred ships, containing thirty- _ 


six thousands tuns, navigated by about sixteen hundred 
seamen, and may be expected to employ, at a not very dis- 


tant time, a much greater number. The only channel of : 


traffic between Lower Canada and the United States of 





Commerce, 


190 


CHAPTER 
V. 


(fo TIT 


CANADA. 


North America, allowed: by the British government, ‘was 
the river Chamblee, the outlet of the waters of lake Champ- 
lain into the Saint Lawrence: but, as a smuggling trade, 
on so extensive a frontier could not. easily be prevented, 
great quantitiesof goods have been imported clandestinely.* 


An important article of exportation is timber, in staves or 
im gross pieces. . It is floated down the river to Quebec in 
rafts, which are variously constructed, according to the va- 


_rious kinds of wood conveyed by them. When oak is to be 


floated, “a great number of large pieces of pine are 
strongly fastened together with wooden pins, making a 
kind of frame in the form of a gridiron. To this frame the 
pieces of oak are fastened, and thereby buoyed up : for they 
are so heavy, that they would not float of themselves. These 
floats, or rafts, are so well put together, that they resist the 
strong concussions in coming down the rapids; and it is 
remarkable that there.is not a piece of iron about them. 
Their only fastenings are wooden pins, and twigs and young 
shoots of trees, of a tough and pliable nature. The cables 
even, which they use as a fastening to prevent their being 
carried up the river by the flowing tide, are nothing but 


*young shoots of trees, fastened and twisted together. By 


these floats not only the’oak,’ both squared and in plank, is 
‘brought down, but also staves: and they are of vast dimen- 
sions. . They are-managed and directed by the force of large 
oars or sweeps, from thirty to forty feet long, having their 


fulcrum. near the edge of the raft. The rowers are stationed 


* Gray, p. 172201, Mackenzie’s Tour, Pref. p.25. Heriot’s Tra- 


' 


CANADA. 


_ at the proper distance to give effect to their exertions on 
the lever ; and, it must be allowed, a great power is wanted 
to give a direction to such an unwieldy mass. Fifteen to 
twenty people are employed on some of them. A house is 
erected on each of them, in which the people sleep and eat ; 
for they have cooking utensils, a fireplace, and beds, ‘such 


as they are. After the wood is sold, the float and house are’ 


also .disposed of.’’* 


Various kinds of boats, some.of which are termed canoes, 
are employed in the carriage of merchandize on ‘the rivers 
and lakes of Canada. Next to the raft in its nature is the 
scow, ‘‘a vessel with four sides, an. oblong square, in 
length forty: to fifty feet, in breadth thirty to forty, and from 
four to five deep, flat-bottomed, |. The sides are not perpen- 
dicular: they are inclined outwards for the purpose of car- 
rying a greater weight, .'The scows are built on the lakes 
in Upper Canada. A large, one. will carry five hundred 
barrels of flour, and costs fifty pounds.. They.are built for 
the farmers, for the purpose.of transporting to Montreal 
flour, potash, and other goods, They are navigated by long 
oars, or sweeps, and poles. They have each a.mast.and 
sail too, which can be used in the lakes, when the wind is 
favourable. On such occasions they steer with an oar; 
and they have anchors and cables to come to within the 
lakes, when the wind blows strong against them. They 
are made of pine, planked, and. ealked outside, like a ship, 


but have no deck, When they have discharged their car-. 


» Gray, Pe 212. 


19] 


CHAPTER 
Vv. . 


SS 


Boats. 


(192 


‘CHAPTER. 
¥ 


. 
ee ame a 


CANADA. 


goes, they are of no further use, except’ for breaking up for 
domestic purposes, and they are sold generally for a very 
few dollars.’’* Boats called bateaux, the French appellation, 


-are much in use on the Saint Lawrence and the lakes. 


‘These are commonly about forty feet long, six broad, with 
the: sides about, four feet high, flat-bottomed, sharp at 
both ends, and carry a burden of from four to five tuns. - 
They are. heavy vessels, awkward in rowing and sailing, but 
are preferred to boats with keels, as, at the approach of a 
storm, they can easily be run aground at the beach, and 
drawn on shore. + 


Of the canoes made of bark, employed in the trade with 
the western Indians, which are also much used within the 
limits of Canada, I have already given an account in treat- 
ing of the: northwestern regions of America. Canoes of 


another sort are in use in the Saint Lawrence, made each 


out of “ one solid’ piece of wood, the trunk of a large tree 
seooped out, and formed on. the ‘outside somewhat like a 
boat. Some of them are very large, carrying éasily fifteen 
or twenty people: ‘The passing of the Saint Lawrence in 
eanoes,. in the middle of winter, where the river is not 
frozen over, as at Quebec, is a very extraordinary operation. 
The time’ ‘of high water is chosen, when the large masses of 
ice are almost stationary. The canoe is feimehed into the 
water, where there is aw opening : the people are provided 
with ropes, boat-hooks, and paddles, When they come to 
a sheet of ice, they jump out of the canoe upon it; draw 


* Gray, p. 20% + ** yf ¥ Weld, vol. 1, p. 332. 


CANADA. 


_ the canoe up after them ; push it to the other side of the 
sheet of ice; launch it into the water; paddle. till they 
come to another sheet of ice ; and proceed as before. You 
' see twenty to thirty canoes crossing in this way at the same 
time; and you cannot avoid trembling for them, when you 
see two immense masses of ice coming together, and the 
canoes between them, apparently in the greatest danger of 
being crushed to pieces: but the people extricate them- 
selves with great dexterity.”* : 


Of the area of this: vast country, of which no accurate 
survey has as yet been made, we can only form a conjec- 
tural, or vague estimation. Its length may be fourteen 
hundred miles, its medial breadth near two hundred and 
thirty, and its area little less than two hundred millions. of 
English acres. It is politically divided into the two pro- 
vinces of Lower and Upper Canada, separated by an ima- 
ginary line, which commences. at a landmark of stone, on 
the northern: bank of lake Saint Francis, a broad distention 
of the: Saint Lawrence river, at a cove to the west of Point 
au Baudet, and thence runs northward to Utawas river, 
and along it te its source, atid thence directly. to the north 

to the confines of New Britain.. The subdivisions of coun- 
| ties, townships. parishes, and other districts, will increase in 
number with extending, population. The increase indeed 
in population has been rapid... In the lower province the 
number of inhabitants was almost. tripled in the space of 
fifty years, after its becoming subject to the British crown.. 
Gray, p. 257. 
Bb 


193 


CHAPTER 
Vv. 





” Division, 


Population: 


19% 


CHAPTER 
v. 


Toliabitants- 


(CANADA. 


In the upper; the colony, froma very slender stock, grew to 
such a state, in thirty years, as to consist of about a hundyved 
shousand persons. This im pavt ts ascribable to emigra- 
tions from the territories: of the United States. In the 
beginning of the nineteenth century, the number of people 
in all ‘Canada amounted to at least three hundred thousand, 
of whom about two-thirds were contained in. the lower 


. province.* 


In the above-stated estimate, I have not included the 
Indians, whose numbers are very small, and totally uncer- 


tain, within the bounds of Canada. Few tribes indeed of 


‘this race of men can properly be said to belong to this 
country, as the range of territory, through. which most of 


them roam, or are thinly scattered, extends into regions far 


beyond its limits, Such is the case with the Algonquins 
and Knisteneavx, already mentioned, who stretch to the 
west and north; nor can the Iroquois be regarded as other 
than borderers. A few small clans of aboriginal people 
dwell in a comparatively settled manner within the Cana- 


dian territories; but they are so very inconsiderable as 


hardly to’ merit notice. A remnant of the Algonquins, 
termed mountaineers by the colonists, consisting of about 
thirteen hundred persons, about half of whom are a kind of * 
nominal christians, inhabit a tract of country which borders 
on lake Saint John. These, in length of time, have lost, 
together with the ferocity, all the courage of the savage, 
having become so unwarlike that they must quickly be ex- 


* Gray, p. 165. 


CANADA. 


tirpated by fiercer tribes, if they were not surrounded by 
the posts of a civilized people. The rest of the charac- 
teristics of a savage people they fully retain, as an invincible 
aversion to agriculture and every regular pursuit of pro- 
vident industry,-and.an indolence from which they are 
roused only by. waut, for the procuring of subsistence by the 
chace. Of the.colonists, or civilized inhabitants, of Lower 
Canada, whom: alone we regard as forming the population, 
nearly nine. tenths are of French descent,,and speak no 
other than the French language. The remaining part, 
together with all the people of Upper Canada, are of British 
origin, and speak English only. rim 


That the use exclusively of the French language in the 
administration of government, and courts of justice in. Lower 
Canada,’ has hitherto been sanctioned by the legislative 
power of Great Britain, seems to have been one of the 
errors of the British cabinet in the modelling of a political 
constitution for this country. Two acts of the British par- 
liament, the one in 1774, the other in 1791, were passed for 
the regulating of the Canadian government. Of this system, 
which may be hereafter new modelled, I shall attempt to give 
no more than merely.an, outline. Two governors preside 
separately over the two provinees, independent of each 


other in civil matters ; but in. military the governor of the: 


lower has the precedence, as being captain general for 
Britain in North America. Under the governor of each 
provinee are two bodies of a kind of provincial parliament, 
the one termed the legislative council, the other the house 
of assembly. The members of the former are summoned 


2b2 


Government, 


~ 


196 2 | CANADA. 


CHAPTER by the governor, and hold their places, unless forfeited by 
<<< specified culpability, during life. ‘Those of the latter are 
élected by the freeholders of the several counties and (owns, 
and retain their seats four years, unless their dissolution be 
pronounced, before the expiration of that term, by the go- 
vernor, who has power at all times to dissdlvé their assembly. 
In Lower Canada the legislative council ‘must consist of 
not less than fifteen members, in Upper Canada of not less 
than seven. In-the former province the house of assembly 
must not contain less than fifty members, in the latter not 
less than sixteen. Except in some cases where the assent 
of the king, and in some where even that. of the British 
parliament is necessary, laws for internal regulation are 
- made by these assemblies with the assent of the governor, 
but may, within two years, be annulled by the king. The 
executive power is vested in the governor, assisted by an 
executive council nominated by the British sovereign. 


In both the provinces the laws of England in criminal 
matters are established, and in civil also in the upper : but 
Y inthe lower the old French customs are permitted to retain: 

the force of laws, except in lands granted, since the settle-” 
ment of the government, in free and common soccage, by - 
the king, the inhabitants of which are subject only to 
English laws, except in certain cases. ‘That these French 
customs have been established is somewhat unfortunate, as 
they press too heavily on the lower classes, aud as, from 
their defective nature and their confusion with English laws, 
a field is opened for the chicane of lawyers for the obstruc- 
. tion of the course of justice, in the recovery of debts, and in 


CANADA. 


suits concerning property. The assignment of separate 
legislatures to the two provinces seems also unfortunate, as 
thencert in Lower Canada, the French ‘members i in the house 
of assembly have’ fully in their power, by their great majo- 
rity over the English, to’ prevent the enactment of whatso~ 
ever bill they may choose to oppose, and, thus enabled, are 
apt, from their extraordinary ignorance, and inveterate pre- 
judices, to put impediments in the way of the colony’s 
improvement. Beside the great majority against them, the 
British members are under another disadvantage. They 
can seldom, if ever, in debate, speak the French tongue, 
which alone is in use, with such fluency and force as those 
of whom it is the vernacular speech.. The expenses of go- 
vernment in Canada, in the maintenance of civil establish- 
ments and military and naval forces, must vary with circum- 
stances, but has always far exceeded the revenue collected 
from the country. To attach the tribes of neighbouring 
Indians to the British interest, presents are annually given 
them, to a larger amount than seems to some consistent 
with sound policy. The expenses of these presents, toge- 
ther with the salaries paid to officers in what is called the 
Indian department, have hitherto amounted to a hundred 
thousand pounds a year. 

The professors of every religion have the fullest toleration 
in this country. The Roman Catholic Church, the Church 
of the French colonists, the bulk of the inhabitants of Lower» 
Canada, is established by law, so far as that its clergy retain 
their ecclesiastical properties, and can recover by legal pro- 
cess the dues and tythes which they possessed before the 


197 


CHAPTER 
es 


erin renee: 


Religion, 


198 


 @ANADA, 


et conquest, except on lands belonging to Protestants. Tythes 
are still levied from such lands held by Protestants, as were 


formerly subject to this kind‘of rent for the support of the 
Romish worship; but the amount of them is paid into the 
hands of a receiver general, for the maintenance of Protes- 
tant clergymen of the Church of England, actually resident 


in.the province.. For the maintenance of the same’ the se- 


venth part of all waste lands, granted by the king, is reserved 
and without.a clause of reservation to.this purpose no grant 
is valid. 'To constitute benefices, and to.endow them\from 
this fund, a power is vested in the governor with the advice 


of the executive council. Inthe beginning of the nineteenth 


century the clergy of the Church of England, in both pro- 
yinces, were only thirteen in number, including tlig bishop 
of Quebec ; those of the Church of Scotland three ;. those 
of the Romish Church two hundred. A late traveller* 
says, “ no where do the Roman Catholics and Protestants 
live on better. terms than here. They go to. each other’s 
marriages, baptisms, asd burials, without scruple ; nay, 
they have even been known to make use of the same Church 
for religious worship, one party using it in the forenoon, 
and the other in the afternoon. ‘There is something truly 
christian in all this.” 


The Canadians of British blood are, in persons and man- 
ners, like other British people, but the French Canadians 
are of a different character. Of the lower classes of these 
many appear tinctured with Indian blood, and some are still 


* Gray, p. 60.. 


CANADA. ‘799 


found dwelling in the villages-of the Indians, and married to CHAPTER 
Indian women. They are generally inclined’ to a roving a 
- kind of life, apt to prefer’ the chase, the fishery, and the 
‘management of boats in commercial voyages, to the settled 
business of agriculture. From their resemblance to the 
aboriginals m such propensities and habits, these’ have been, 
and still continue to be, more attached to the French Cana* 
dians than to any other European colonists who have settled 
in America. No bolder navigators, nor hardier men, per- 
haps'are to be found in any country, than those of these. 
colonists who navigate the canoes in the trade of peltry. 
The smoking of tobacco is incessantly practised by these and — 
others of the lower classes, insomuch that they compute the 
distances between places by pipes. By a pipe; which: is 
commonly about equal toa Russian verst, or three quarters 
of an English mile, is meant the space through which they 
may move while a pipeful of tobacco lasts in smoking. The 
common people in general are blindly devoted to the dic- 
tates of their priests, and superstitious in the extreme. For. 
instance, they believe, that a consecrated candle, while it 
burns, completely protects all in the house, where it is, from 
thunder, tempests, sickness, and every other evil. 





¢ 


Consonant with the superstition of the French Canadians 
is their extraordinary ignorance. Few among this people 
can write or even read. Strange as it must appear, this is 
the case with many members. of the house of assembly. The 
little acquaintance with literature discoverable among them 
is chiefly possessed by the fair sex. The opinions of these } 
are regarded.as ef such weight, that the men generally con- 


200 


! 


CHAPTER _ 
Vv. 





&astoms. 


CANADA, — 

sult their wives in the management of affairs, and are guided 
by theiradvice. ‘Some of the lower classes have all the 
gaity and vivacity of the people of France. Others, to ap- 
pearance, havea great deal of that sullenness.and. bluntness 
in their manners characteristic of the people of the United 
States. Vanity however is the ascendant feature in the cha- 
racter of all of them, and by working upon that you may 
make them do what you please.”* Their amiable beha- 
viour to strangers must be considered as atoning for many 
faults. There is not a farmer, shopkeeper, nay, nor even a 
seigneur, or country gentleman, who, on being civilly ap- 
plied to for accommodation, will not give you the best bed 
in the house, and every accommodation in hispower. The 
Canadians.seem to have brought the old French politeness 
with them to this country, and to have handed it down te 
the present generation. One is more- suprised to find here 
courtesy and urbanity, from the little likelihood that such 
plants would exist, far less flourish, in the wilds of Canada.” + 
Notwithstanding, however, the general politeness of this 
people, the indolence of the men in the lower orders 
causes great part of the labours. of agriculture to fall to. 
the lot of the softer sex. 


The customs: and modes of life of the Canadians, both 
French and British, depend:much upon the nature of their 
air and seasons, During: the long winter, while the earth 
‘continues covered with snow, which in the lower province is 
not less than six months, all business, except the carrying 


\ ~ 


*- Weld. vol. 1). p. 338. - + Gray, po127.> 


“CANADA? 


201 


of goods to market, is suspended , and the people devote their CHAPTER 
time to amusement and festivity. The labouring classes, in —————— 


great proportion, are thus obliged to maintain themselves 
_ the whole year on the earnings of the half: yet they are as 
well clothed, and-appear to live as comfortably, as those of 


their rank in any country in Europe. The rooms are | 


warmed with stoves, as in Russia, and the ‘cattle intended 
for the provision of winter are killed at the commencement 
of thatseason, and their flesh is preserved from taint by the 
frost. A species of amusement much practised by the 
gentry is driving in open sledges on the ice or frozen snow. 
In these the ladies appear superbly dressed in furs. These 
sledges, termed “ carioles, glide over the snow with great 
smoothness, and so little noise do they make,.-that it is ne: 
cessary to have a number of bells attached to the harness, 
or a person continually sounding a horn, to guard against 
accidents.. The rapidity of the motion, with the sound of 
these bells and horns, appears to be very conducive to cheer- 
fulness, for you seldom see a dull face in a cariole’”’* The 
body of this vehicle, placed on what are called runners, 
which resemble in form the irons of a pair of skaits, is of 
various shapes and sizes, and is applied to various uses ; 
some sorts serving as carts.to bring goods to market, others 
as carriages for travelling or pleasure. . 


Those who travel on foot in winter in this country Use 
what are called snow-shoes, "These are made of a kind of 


#* Weld, vol. 1, p. 393. 


cc 


Travelling. 


ao... — eawapas 
CHAPTER net-work, fixed on frames, about two feet long, and eighteen 

: inches broad, shaped like the paper kites used by boys. 
From their extent of surface they sink not deeply in the 

snow. ‘Those who avail themselves of horses in travelling 
over ice or snow generally sit in a eariole. Such is the ex- | 
pedition of this mode, that “ there have. been instances of a , 

_ single horse having drawn a cariole, with. two people in it, 
not, less than ninety miles i in twelve hours, which is. more 
than mail-coach rate, with all their changes.”"* When two 





sha Ee 


in a. line, te one before the ate The most extraordinary 
part of Canadian travelling is onthe ice of great sheets of 
water, such as lake Champlain, ever which carriages fre- 
quently run in. the intercourse between this country and the 
territories of the United States. Weak spots of the ice are 
apt to give way under the feet of the horses. ‘The animals, 
in that ease, fall into the water, and sometimes drag the 
carriage and its. contents to the bottom with them ; but in 

general the men leap from the carriage on the unbroken 
ice, and pull the horses out. For this purpose, on the neck 
of each horse is fixed a rope with a running noose, by the 
violent pulling of which the animal is strangled. No sooner 
is this effect produced on these-quadrupeds, “ than they 
rise_in the water, float on one side, are drawn on strong 
ice, the noose of the rope is loosened, and respiration re- 
commences. -In a few minutes the horses are on their feet, . 
as much alive as ever.” } | 


® Gray, p. 263, $ Gray, p. 278. 


CANADA, 


‘The towns of Canada are as yet very few and of small 
size. The third im magnitude, named Trois Rivieres, con- 
tained only about three hundred houses in the beginning of 
the nineteenth century. It stands on a bank of the Saint 
Lawrence, at the influx of a great auxiliar stream, the Saint 
Maurice, which is so divided at its niouth by two islands, as 
to display to passing navigators the appearance of three 
distinct rivers. The only two towns of considerable magni- 
tude, Quebec and Montreal, are situated at nearly equal ee 
tances from this, and on the same side of the Saint Lawrence, 
the northwestern. * Montreal lies on the southern end of an 
island of the same denomination, near thirty miles long and 
ten broad, at the mouth of the Utawas river. The number 
of inhabitants may be about ten thousand, of whom the 
greater part dwell in the suburbs outside the wall ‘of the 


CHAPTER ‘ 
$.--< 


Towns, 


Montreal 


city, which, being useless since the Indians have ceased to 


be formidable, has been suffered to become ruinous: The 
streets are narrow, but regular, Except some built of 
wood in the suburbs; the houses are of stone, and instead 
of shingles, are mostly covered with plates of tin, to prevent 
conflagration. For the sme purpose, the doors of mati; 
and the outside shutters of the windows, are wai ae with 
sheets of iron. : 


The preneaticanitel of Canada, and most probably thé 
future, is Quebec; most advantageously situated for strength, 
commercial convenience, and the beauties of majestic sce- 
nery. It is built ona yast calcareous’ rock, the end of a 
promontary, which eontracts the Saint Lawrence to thé 


2c2 


Quebec. 


204 


CANADA) 


CHAPTER comparatively diminutive breadth of a mile, but forms below 
——~—— this fluvial strait, at the influx of the river Saint Charles, 2 


noble harbour, called the bason, capable of containing, ina 
commodious manner, above a hundred sail of the heaviest’ 
ships of war. ‘The town consists of two parts,, the upper 
and.lower. ‘The upper town stands on the top of the rock ; 
the lower at its foot. The two parts communicate by a 
winding street, in which some. stairs are cut at the sides for 
the accommodation of passengers on foot. The fortifica- 
tions are stupendous, beside that the natural steepness of the 
rock obviates, in many places, the necessity of walls. The 
perpendicular height of the rock at Cape Diamond, which 
forms part of the outline, is at least three hunddred: and fifty 
feet, The number of inhabitants is about twelve thousand. 
The streets are in general, more especially in the lower 
town, rather narrew and irregular: ‘The houses-are mostly 
built of stone, and are covered with boards or shingles, ex- 
cept a number of the best dwelling-houses and most valuable: 
warehouses, which have a beautiful covering of plates of tin. - 
Quebec, which, from. its situation, must be regarded as the 


key of Canada, and seems intended in future ages for the 


capital of a great empire, is.remarkable for the grand di- 
versified, and beautiful seenery, which the eye commands 
from several parts of the upper town. “ In. the variegated 
expanse that is laid before you, stupendous rocks, immense 
rivers, trackless forests and cultivated plains, mountains, 
lakes, towns, and villages, in turn strike the attention, and 
the senses are almost bewildered in contemplating the vast- 
ness of rhe scene. The river itself, five or six miles wide, 


Py 


CANADA, ; 205 


is one of the most beautiful objects in nature, and on a CHAPTER 
fine still summer’s evening it often wears the appearence’ 
of a vast mirror, where the varied rich tints of the sky, as 
well as the images of the different objects on the banks, 
are seen reflected with inconceivable lustre.”* 





* Weld, vol. 1, pe 355, 


* 


van 


— 

‘36 
ER oe 
S 





CHAPTER VI. 








HUDSON’S BAY. 


_ Te mouths of all the rivers in Hudson’s Bay, are filled CHLUTES 
with shoals ; except that of Chureh-hill, in which thelargest_ —————— 
ships may lie: but ten miles higher it is obstructed with. 
sand-banks. lll the rivers, as far, as they: have been navi- 

gated are full of rapids and cataracts, from ten to sixty feet 
perpendicular. Down these the Indian traders find a quick 

‘passage ; but their return is a labour of many months.* 


As far inland as the company have settlements, i. e. 600 
_ miles to the west of a place called Hudson’ $ stone in lat. 53, 
long. 106° 27, the country is flat ; nor is it known how far 
to the eastward the great western chain of mountains 
branches off.+ aa Biol igo 


The sun rises and sets with a large cone of yellowish 
light. The burting of the rocks by the frost, is altogether 
terrific. Like many heavy cannon fired together, nad the 
splinters thrown to an amazing distance. All the grous- 
kind, ravens, crows, titmouse, and nonee finch brave the 
severest winters. 


_* Pennant’s Arctic Zoology, p. 294: + Idem, p. 296, 


208 


CHAPTER 
VE 


LABRADOR. 

THE northern part has a strait coast facing the bay, 
guarded by a line of isles innumerable. The eastern coast 
is barren beyond the efforts of cultivation, The surface is 
every where covered with masses .of stone of an amazing 
size. It is a country of fruitless vallies and frightful moun; 
tains, some of them of an astonishing height. There is a 


chain of lakes spread throughout formed not from springs, 
but from rain and snow. Their water is so chilly,,as to be 


productive of only. a few sinall trout. On those mountains 


there are thinly scattered a few blighted shrubs, or a little 
moss. Inthe vallies there are crooked, stunted trees, pines, 
firs, birch, cedar, or rather a species of juniper. In latitude 
60, on this coast vegetation ceases. The whole shore like 
that of the west is faced with islands, at some distance from 


the land, The people among the mountains are Indians. 


Those on the coast Esquimaux. The dogs of the former are 
small; those of the latter are headed like the fox. They 
have a few rein-deer; but use their dogs for drawing.* — 


The Labrador-stone, which relents all the colours of the 
peacock is found in loose masses. 


* Phil. Trans, LXIY. 372, 386, 


NOVA SCOTIA. 


Tae face of the country is in general hilly, but not 
‘ mountainous. It appears to be a lowered continuation of 


that chain or spine which pervades the whole continent. 


The land is not favourable for agriculture; but may be 
excellent for pasturage. .The summer is misty and damp. 
It abounds in extensive forests; but not in large timber, 
none fitted for large masts, nor even for the building-of large 
ships. Here is an inexhaustible fund of lumber for the 
sugar plantations, The situation for fishing here is little 
inferior to that of Newfoundland. Cape George terminates 
the coast to the east. It is iron-bound, and 420 feet 
above the sea. 


Far from every part of Nova Scotia extends a skirt of 


land with deep water and fine anchorage. The harbours — 


here form very secure retreats; and the tides in the bay 


of Fundy are from fifty to seventy-two feet and flow with | 


prodigious rapidity. Hogs perceiving its approach run 
away, at full speed. , 


dd 


209 


CHAPTER 
Vi. 


rae 


Haass 
st 





/ 


CHAPTER. VII. 








VIRGINIA. a 


Virginia—-Site—-Coust slieblledd siDRbaieaic vomits 
Swoamps—Springs—Subterranean excavations—Tempe- 
rature and Season’—Face—History— Vegetables— Ani- 

- mals—Fossils— Commerce—Area— Population—Govern- 
‘ ment—Division—Religion— Towns— Roads— Bridges— 

= Inns—-Inhabitants—-Staves—-Literature—- Manners— 

Islands, © * : 


VIRGINIA, on Univep Srates, 

Unper which general denomination, for geographical: 
convenience, are comprehended the territories possessed 
_ by the United States of North America,: is a region ‘of vast 
dimensions, but of not accurately determined boundaries, 
extending from the borders of New:Brunswick and Canada, 
aud the lakes Ontario and Erie, southwestward to the fron- 
tiers of Florida, and fromthe Atlantic ocean, westward be- 
yond the river Missisippi, to tracts approximating the Spa- 
nish colonies in New Mexico. The settling of the limits of 
this great portion of the American continert will depend.on 

2p 2 


211 


CHAPTER 
VIL. 





Site. 


219 


t~ 


‘VIRGINIA, 


cHApTeR = future political transactions. At present the widest interval 


Vit, 


—————=— between this and the neighbouring countries is found on the 


uae 


Contour. 


side of the territories comprised under the appellation of 
New Mexico, where vast marshes and desart plains, desti- 
tute of trees, like the steppes of Tartary, intervene between 


the occupied parts of the one and the ether region. 


‘From its northern limit, the coast of this vast country is in 
general high, rocky, and here and there bordered with reefs, 
as far toward the south as the vicinity of Long Island: but 
thence to its southern termination it is so flat and low, as 
not to be discernible from ships on the ocean until their very 
near approach to the land.* It is broken throughout by . 
numerous inlets, in which are many safe receptaeles for ship- 
ping. The greatest are in the southern parts, as Delaware. 
bay, Chesapeak gulf, and Albemarle sound. Far the most 
extensive of these is the gulf, improperly called the bay, of 
Chesapeak, which advances about two hundred and seventy 
miles within the continent, with a breadth of from seven to 
eighteen miles, and a depth of commonly about nine fa- 
thoms, 4 sien J 


The land of this region rises westward from the Atlantic, — 
and eastward from the Missisippi, by gradations which are 
various and mostly insensible, to the interior or middle parts, 
which are occupied by long ridges of mountains, running. 
generally toward the northeast and southwest, nearly pa- 
rallel to one another, and remarkable for an evennessor » 


* Volney’s View of the United States, London, 1804, 8¥0. p. 19: 


VIRGINTAL 


uniformity unvaried by such peaks and rugged precipices as 


213 


CHAPTER 
Vu, 


diversify the mountains of Europe and Asia. This extragrs| == 


dinary congeries of mountainous protuberances, which ap- 
pear to be natural terraces of prodigious elongation, forms 
_ a tract of above a thousand miles in length, and commonly 
_ from about seventy to a hundred and twenty miles broad. 
Amoug the extensive ridges of this tract, frony which nu- 
merous branches run in various directions, three principal 
are distinguishable, the different parts of which are variously 
denominated. The appellation of the Apalachian.or Al- 
leghany mountains, which is sometimes. extended to: the 


whole assemblage, belongs, in strict propriety, to the great~. 


est ridge, termed also the endless chain, which, unbroken: 
by any watercourse, forms the spine of this portion of the 
American cortinent, separating the streams which descend: 
eastward to the Atlantic from those which flow westward ta: 
the Missisippi. ‘These mountains are not of more than a 
moderate height. The medial elevation of the Apalachian 
chain above the ocean’s level is only two thousand, or. two 
thousand four hundred feet, though in some parts it is com- 
puted to rise to the altitude of between three and four thous- 
and, ,and even toseven thousand eight hundred in one part, 


a part detached from the main ridge, in the province of 


New Hampshire, ealled the white mountains, sometimes: 
visible at sea at the distance of thirty leagues. On the 
eastern side, between the system of mountains and the At- 
lantic, the country is rough with hills as far toward the 
. south as Long Island ; but thence throughout it is a flat or 
shelving plain, varying in breadth from fifty to a hundred 
and eighty miles, encreasing in width as it approaches the 


214- 
CHAPTER - 
vil... 


(eres em 


Rivers, 


south. On the western side, to the banks of the Missisipp! 


it consists’ of plains of vast extent, traversed by low ridges 


in various directions. ‘To the north of the river Ohio, the 
land, denominated the northwestern territory, forms an 


immense plain, or gently undulating surface, so elevated as 


to give source to rivers whose waters are conveyed in op- 


posite directions, some to the south as the Missisippi, others 


to the _— by ~ — — SHER TRSt Seid 


~ As ‘the highest or middle region kof this part of Ainerica 
displays a peculiarity in the arrangement and conformation 
of its mountains, so alse has it some uncommon circumstan- 
ces by which the courses of its rivers are affected. These, 
after having flowed, for some space, ‘along the vallies, be~ 
tween the ridges of mountains, in streams parallel to them, 
turn suddeiily into ‘directions ‘transverse to these ridges, 
through deep gaps, in which they pour their waters, whence 
they descend into thé plains. “Appearances strongly indicate, | 
that, in'times of antiquity, many vallies in the mountainous 
region formed vast lakes, the waters of which, in a course of 
ages, forced passages from their confinement, bursting their 
way, where the resistance was weakest, through the vast 
barriers by which they were pent, and thus forming those» 


gaps through which the rivers are’ now seen to rush with. 


such impetuosity. In this manner’ appear’ to have been 
scooped the channels of the rivers Hudson, Delaware, Sus- 


| quehannah, Potowmak, and James, which traverse the ridges 
. between’ the ae and the spinal or properly called o | 


™ Faaey: p- 18—42, See ane the Tours of Burnaby, Smith, Chastel. 
lux, Weld, i &e. i 


VIRGINIA. 


215 


Jachian chain ; and such appears also to have been the case CHAPTER 


Vul. 


with the Ohio, which seems to have pierced the mounds ———=— 


- between the spine and the Missisippi.. The most remark 
able, or at least the most remarked, of the gaps: through 
which the formerly imprisoned waters escape to the plains, 
is the breach through which the Potowmak runs, formed in 


the ridge called the Blue mountains, a breach above a _ 


thousand feet deep, and near four thousand wide; presenting, 


in some points of view, a fine object to the eye by the sub- | 


limity of the scene, and sit me ith henntes of mpoks, and. 


- erdure.* ij BOIZS. 3085 i } mt G4 ; 


The rivers. named above, flowing , with vast, bodies of 
water, in broad. and. deep streams,. together with. several 
others, form an, extensive inland nayigation, which has.been: 
already much. improved, by the, excavation. of canals,. and. 
will doubtless, in future times, with the encrease of wealth, 
be improved much further. Except, in some parts where 
are portages:or earrying places, where navigation is inter- 
rupted. by eataracts .or other impediments, these rivers are 
navigable by boats almost throughout,-and those which fall 
into the Atlantic are navigable .by ships. of burden far 
above their mouths, as the Hudson which enters the ocean. 
at Long Island, the: Delaware which is. received by. a-bay of 


the same denomination, and the Susquehannah, the Potow- 


mak, aud the James, which. disembogue into. the gult of the 
Chesapeak. Of-all these the Potowmak is of the easiest. 
navigation, On this any ordinary mariner, who has.once: 


'* Volney,. p, 74—95.- 





VIRGINA. 


made the passage, may safely, wifliout a pilot; conduct a 
vessel, drawing only twelve fect water, from the Chésapeak 
to the city of Washington, a cotrse of a hundred and forty 
niles. ‘Im the southern parts the rivers which run>to the 


_ Atlanti¢ areso ‘barred by shoals and said banks as not to 


admit ‘heavy ships, except the Ashley, the Cooper, and Sa- 
vannah, which however are not navigable by large vessels 
far within land. Among the cataracts of this country I 
shall only mention that of Cohioz, where the Mohawk fiver, 
an auxiliar of the Hudson, falls from the height of fifty feet, 
over a ledge of rocks which extends in a right line quite 


across the channel, where the breadth of the stream is three 


hundred yards. Qn the westérit side of the Apalachians, 
the Ohio, by its great influent oF auxiliar streams, affords 
a most extensive navigation, while itself bears ships, draw- 
ing twelve feet water, through a Space of above six hundred 
miles, to the Missisippi, om which such vessels may prose- 
cute their voyage to the gulph of Mexico. Indeed, when 
all the windings are taken into the account, the length of 
the navigation, from Pittsburgh on the Ohio to New Orleans 
on the Missisippi, is reckoned above two thousand miles. 
In the provinces of Kentucky and Tenessee the soil is of 


such a nature that the brooks and even considerable rivers, 


are apt suddenly to disappear, sinking to a stratum of cals 


~ eareous rock, along which, as on a uearly horizontal floor, 


they pursue their course in subterranean channels.* 


* Volney, p- 22925. Weld’s Travels, 8vo. London 17£9, vol. 1, p. 62, 
63, 275. Morse’s American b Geography: and beoancamic &e. &c. 


VIRGINIA. 


2i7 


The lakes, which lie within the terriiories of the United CHAPTER 


States, are so vastly inferior in size to the immense bason 
of water in their vicinity, on the northwestern quarter, as 
not to attract comparatively much notice. Yet lake Champ- 
Jain, which, on one end, receives a stream from lake George, 
and, on the other, discharges its redundant waters by au 
‘outlet to the river Saint Lawrence, is accounted two hun- 
‘dred miles long, and from one to eighteen broad, has a 
‘depth of water sufficient for the largest vessels, and contains 


‘above sixty islands, one of which is twenty-four miles in 


length, and from two to four wide. Lake George itself, 
whose water is supposed to be a hundred feet higher than 
that of Champlain, is thirty-six miles long, and from one 
to seven broad. The lakes Cayuga and Seneca, each nearly 
forty miles long, communicate with each other, and, by an 
effluent stream, with. the’ great Ontario. This also is the 
case with some smaller lakes, as the Oneida, and one called 
the salt lake, whose water is inpreguated strongly with salt, 


~ From the nature and position ofthe ground in many parts 
of these regions, the waters form bogs of a species called 


swamps, which are commonly overspread with a very thick 


growth of reeds, shrubs, and trees,of various kinds. Of 
these the most noticed is one called the Dismal swamp, situ- 
ated in. the Jow eountry: which iborders on the Atlantic, 
between Virginia. proper and North Carolina, extending 
thirty miles in length, witha medial breadth of ten, covered 
mostly with a dense forest of enormous trees: which yield 
valuable timber, and bordered in many parts, especially 
toward the south, with a kind of meadows occupied by 
Ee 


Lakes» 


1218, 


CHAPTER 


Springs, 


 VIRGINEA. 


~yeeds, which afford: the most nourishing. food .for eattle. 


The waters of a canal, cut in this dreary tract; are of the 


_colour of brandy, and: accounted rather salubrious: than 
_otherwise, which is supposed to. be caused by the roots of 


juniper, or other ‘trees. : In, the» center isa lake or pond, 
about seven miles. in, length, Some. spaces. in’ the south 


-have been eleared, and. are found fertile in,rice ; but far the 


greater portion, consisting of an. undrainable quagmire, is 
incapable of culture. For the production .of rice,. large 
tracts have. been. reclaimed in another .wide. marsh, . called 
also. the Dismal, by some. the Great Aligator swamp, which 
lies to the south of Albemarle. sound, and contains a lake 
eleven miles: long. In the province of Georgia, on the 
borders of Florida, is the Ekanfanoka marsh, supposed. to 


-be-three hundred miles in circuit, forming in rainy seasons 


a lake, and containing several islands, which are said to. be 
inhabited, and concerning which the neighbouring evan 


relate some fabulous. stories, * 


Thermal waters of various qualities are found in the | 


‘mountainous. parts, particularly in. those which belong to 


Virginia, proper, as in Botecourt county, where are those 


which are called the Sweet Springs, held in such estimation 
-for supposed sanative properties, as to be frequented by 


considerable numbers. in summer: Beside. several others, 


are Warm Spring and Hot Spring in Augusta county, at 


the distance of above forty miles from. the above-mentioned, 
near therwources of the river James.. Hot — raises 3 the 


th, Weld, Mone Bartlniny &e. 


VIRGINIA. 


mercury in Fahrenheit’s thermometer to a hundred and 


_ twelve degrees at least. ‘Warm Spring, which is much 


larger, rises inthe bottom of a deep valley, shaped like an 


inverted { cone, which ‘shews every indication of having been 
the crater of a volcano now extinct. The temperature of 
its water, which is ammoniacal and sulphureous, fills a 
bason of thirty feet in diameter, and flows in a sufficient 
stream for the turning of a mill, is measured uh? the ninety- 
sixth gp: tap of ree sare ascent eiereks” 


— 


Whether by the operations of water, the marks of whose 


violence are strongly impressed on many parts of these’ 


territories, or by those of another element, some strange 


excavations have been formed, has not as yet been ascér- 


tained. Of these the thost extraordinary is ‘a stupendous 


natural bridge, thrown over a frightful chasm, in the county’ 


of Rockbridge, in Virginia proper; between Augusta and 
the river James. “ It extends across a deep cleft in’ the 
mountain, which, by some great convulsion of nature, has 
been split asunder from top to bottom; and it seems to 
- Have been left there purposely to afford a passage from one 
side of the chasm to the other. ‘The cleft or chasm is about 


two miles long, and in some places upwards of three hun-) 


dred feet deep. The depth varies with the height of the 


mountain, being greatest ‘where the mountain is most lofty. 
The breadth of the chasm also varies, but, in every part it. 
is uniformly wider at top than toward the bottom. The 


arch consists of a solid mass of stone, or of stones cemented 


so strongly together that they appear but as oue. The. 


* Volney, p. 40. - Weld, vol. 1, p. 219. -Morse’s Gazetteer, &cs&o 
252 


‘219 


CHAPTER 
vit. 





Subterranean 
excavations, 


220 


. YIRGINIAS: 


craven licight of the’ bridge td the top of ihe parapet is two hun- 


dred and thirteen” feet, the thickness of the arch forty, the 
span of the arch at top ninety, and the distanve between the 
abutments at bottom: fifty. The abutments consist of 'a 


solid. mass of limestone’ on either side, and, together with 


the arch, seem as if they had been chiseled out by the hand 
of art. A small stream; ealled Cedar ereek, running at the 
bottom of the fissure, over a bed of rocks, adds much to the 
beauty of the scene. - From the bottom of the chasm the 
stupendous arch appears in all its glory, and seems to touch 
the very skiés. To behold it without rapture is impossible ; 
and the more critically it is examined, the more beautiful 
and surprising it appears.”’* On one side of the bridge isa 
natural parapet of fixed rocks ; but on the other, where a 
near approach to the brink is dangerous,no fence is fur- 
nished, except trees, which cover in general the arch, and 
both sides of the chasm.. The breadth of the bridge, over 
the middle of which a road Seguenied by maggous lies, is 
from brink to brink’ about eighty feet. 


sates adele thai veleias ane stsselbeiak 
_ Maddison’s cave, situate also in Virginia proper, about fifty 


miles northward of the natural bridge, in‘a hill of about two 


- hundred feet in elevation, forming on one side a precipice, 


washed at the foot by a river. In the steep side is found 
the entrance of the cavern, which extends about three hun- 


‘dred feet into the earth, dividing into two branches, which 


irregularly descend till they terminate each in a poolof un- 
known dimensions. The two pools are suspected to com- 


¥ Weld, vol. 1, p. 220225, See also Jefferson’s Notes on Virginia. 


VIRGINIA. 


rhunicate with each other and with the river. The height 
of the cavern is commonly from about twenty to fifty feet, 
and the sides and roof are of solid limestone. -The stalac- 


tites in some parts form massy pillars, and in others hang ° 


from the —s like elegant drapery.* 


‘an weteicsitend and seasons this portion wy paints | dif- 
fers widely from. the western countries of ‘the Old Continent 
between the same parallels, and has this peculiarity, that 
its maritime lowlands, washed by the. Atlantic, are colder 
' than those of the interior, beyond the mountainous region, 

in the same degrees of latitude. From the contour of this 
vast country,’ and its position with respect to the gulf of 
Mexico and other tracts of water and of land, a most judi- 
cious traveller has in great measure accounted for the state 
of its atmosphere + In the modification of the temperature 
and weather the winds are the great agents, which are here 
more general, or blow uninterrupted ovef a greater extent 
of surface, than in Europe. ‘Those which here predominate 
are the northwest, southwest, and northeast ; imsomucl: 
that, if we suppose the year divided into thirty-six eqnak 
parts, ‘we may say that these three have taken to them- 
selves thirty or thirty-two, the northwest and southwest 
twelve each, the northeast, with the east, sixor eight. The 
rest are distributed among the southeast, south, and west, 
since due north may be reekoned almost.as nothing.” To 
form a right idea of the temperature of this vast country, we 
must conceive it to. be divided oo i lines run- 


* Weld, vol. 1, ps 225230. $ Volney, ps 122—249.. 


22% 


CHAPTER 
v He 


Temperatare’ 
and Seasons: ~ 


229 , 


CHAPTER ' 
Sev it. 





‘VIRGINIA. - 


ning in a direction from uortheast to southwest, into three 
regions, the eastern washed by the Atlantic, the middle, or 
the mountainous, and the western or the valley ofthe Mis-. 
aisinpy. sack frees kta ae: 

oe... 


‘The Atlantic region, which, except its northern part, is 


‘level throughout, ot a-shelving plain between the moun- 


tains and the ocean, resembles, not ‘only in. temperature, 
but even in soil, those parts of China and Tartary which are 
similarly situated, or between the same parallels. . Here the 
cold of winter and the heat of summer are very sensibly 
greater, more especially the former, than in the western 
countries of Europe and Africa under the same degrees of 
latitude. . The territories. of New England, situated between 
the latitudes of forty-two and forty-five degrees, correspond- 
ing to.the south of France and the north of Spain, are so 
covered with. snow for three or four months. in winter, as to 
render the use of sledges general and habitual. Fahren- 
heit’s thermometer commonly varies in this season between 


» the freezing point and eighteen or twenty-two degrees be- 


low it, and sometimes sinks lower. to thirty and even forty 
degrees under that, mark. Inthe same territories, for forty, 
or fifty days in summer, the mercury in this instrument is 
frequently seen.to rise to the eightieth, eighty-sixth, and 
even ninetieth degree ; and few summers pass without its 
being found sometimes to rise to ninety-nine or a. hundred 
and one, whichis the temperature of the coasts of the Per- 
sian gulf, or the Jowlands of Arabia, In the, middle pro- 
vinces, between north and south, as Pensylvania, the dura- 
tion of the cold is Jess, and that-of the heat greater, but the 


: ; VIRGINIA, 


intensity of both remains nearly thesame. The river Dela- 


2238 


CHAPTER 
Vit. 


ware, notwithstanding the rising of the tide to the height of ————=— 


six feet,.is frozen entirely over, where it is a mile broad, ia 
twenty-four hours, and, except two or three intervals of thaw, 
continues obstructed about thirty, and sometimes forty days. 
It has been-known to be so frozen: in the space of even ten, 
hours, as to bear people to walk across it. Fora long. time 
after the summer solstice, and twenty days before it, the heat 
isso violent, that the streets of Philadelphia are totally mt 
serted from noon till five re ie ainrie in: the evening,. 

iit these aisles peowininn: the atiiual vatiatfon between 
the usual maximums of cold and heat amounts to a hundred 
and three or a hundred and eight degrees of Fahrenheit’s. 
thermometer, and iu the’ northern to.a hundred and fourteen, 
but in.the southern only to seventy-two or seventy-six, as 
the difference naturally diminishes: in approaching the equa+ 
tor, under which.it quite ceases to have existence. In even 
the southern provinces-a smart cold is felt in winter, but for 
four months in summer the mercury of Fahrenheit is com- 
monly at between. eighty. and eighty-six degrees, and some- 
times rises at Savannah to-even a- hundred and eight. Not 
only are the annual variations of temperature: far greater 


than in Europe, but also the diurnal, particularly in the 


middle territories between north and south, as Pensylvania 
and Maryland. - The changes from cold to: hot, and from 
hot to cold, are great and sudden, |The thermometer: fre+ 
quently varies, in the space of eighteen hours, fourteen, 
twenty-eight, and sometimes, even in a single night, thirty 
degrees. It has been known to fall even forty-nine degrees. 


224 


CHAPTER 
VIL. 





VIRGINIA. 


in fifteen hours, and twenty within an hour sind 3 half. The 
‘excessive variableness of the weather is thus described by 
an American writer.* ‘* It appears that the climate of Pen- 


_ sylvania is a compound of most of the climates in the world. 


Here we have the moisture of Britain in the spring, the heat 
of Africa in summer, the temperature of Italy in June, the 
sky of Egypt in the autumn, the cold and snows of Norway 
and the ice of Holland in the winter, the tempests, in a cer- 
tain degree, of the West Indies in every season, and the 
variable winds and weather of Great Britain in every month 
of the year, In the course of our winters, particularly in 
January and February, there frequently happen ‘variations 
from cold to hot, or from hot to cold, by which the health 
is considerably: affected. Similar variations take place in 
summer, and piercing cold succeeds almost every night to 
the violent heats of the day.” The physical geographer of 
this country says,¢ that what is here stated concerning Pen- 
sylvania “is applicable, with very little difference, to the 
coast of Virginia proper and the Carolinas.” The changes 
are less observed on the coast of Georgia, where, from its 
southern situation, the head predominates, and where, from 
the discontinuation of the Apalachian ridges, the tempera- 
ture becomes the same with that of the western lowlands. 


In the Apalachian or mountainous region, the. interme- 
diate between the eastern and western, the cold of winter, 
from the nature of elevated surfaces, is a etree and of 


e Doctor Rush in the American MuscHis vol. 7%, Pp. 337. 
o + _Volney, ‘p. 139, 


VIRGINIA, 


longer duration, and the heat of summer less violent, but 
varying according to the height and aspect of the ground, 
than in the eastern or Atlantic tracts: but in the western 
region, the valley of the Missisippi, where a southwesterly 
wind, warm and moist, from the gulf of Mexico, prevails 
ten months in the year, the annual heat is greater than in 
the Atlantic coast by three degrees of latitude; that is, the 
- temperature, existing under any parallel in the former, is 
equal to that which has place in the latter in situations 
three degrees farther to the south. This difference of tem- 
perature between the eastern and western lowlands has ex- 
istence only so far as they are separated by the Apalachian 
ridges, for it ceases both at the northern and southern ter- 
mination of that chain. The superior warmth of the west- 
ern region is therefore ascribed in part to these mountains, 
which in general stop the course of the southwesterly wind, 
preventing its passage to the eastern coasts. This current 
of air appears to be in fact a portion of the trade-wind of the 
Atlantic, which, having rushed into the vast bason of the 
"Mexican gulf, forces thence its way, like the gulf-stream, 
_by its easiest outlet, the vale of the Missisippi, where that 
of the Ohio somewhat changes its direction. -The north- 
west wind, fraught with sharp cold from frozen desarts and 
the icy ocean, is supposed to glide, in a diagonal current, 
over the aerial lake formed by the southwestern in the vast 
_coucaves or vallies of the Missisippiand Ohio, to pass over 
the summits of the Apalachian ridge, and thence to descend 
into the Atlantic region, the cold of whose portion of the 
atmosphere is thus augmented. 


rf 


225 
CHAPTER 
<7: Ws 


rn 


226 


CHAPTER 
Vit 





Though certain winds are habitually prevalent inthis por- 
tion of America, their currents are much more inconstant or 
variable than in Europe, Volney says, “ I can venture to 
affirm that, during a residence of near three years, [ never: 


~ saw the same wind blow ihirty hours together, or the ther- 


mometer continue at the same point for ten. The currents . 
of air are perpetually varying, not one or two points merely, 
but from one quarter of the compass to its opposite : and 
these changes attract notice so much, the more, since the 
alterations in the temperature are as great as they are sud- 


den.” ‘Fhe changes‘in the air from dryness to. humidity are 


not less quick and violent. ‘Though the air is dryer, and 
the number of fair days much greater, than in the west of 
Europe, yet the quantity of water which falls in rain, within. 
the year, is much greater. The showers are commonly sud- 
den aud prodigiously heavy, aud the evaporation. extremely 


quick, ‘The dews-are also excessively copious. The air is 


highly charged with electric matter. Of this, says the same 
traveller, “storms afford: very terrifying proofs in the loud- 
ness of the claps of thunder, and the prodigious vividness of 
the flashes of lightning. When. I first saw thunder storms. 
at Philadelphia, I remarked, that the electric fluid’ was so. 
copious, as to. make alk the air appear on fire by the conti- 
nued succession of the flashes. ‘Their arrowy and. zigzag 
lines were of a breadth and length.of which 1, had no idea ; 
and the pulsations of the electric fluid were so strong, that 
they seemed to. my ear and tomy face to be the light.wind 
produced by. the flight of some nocturnal bird. These ef- 
fects are not confined to the eye and ear, for they frequently: 
occasion, melanchely aceidents.’ People are- frequently 


VIRGINIA. 


killed, and other damages sustained, by the lightning. 
Hurricanes are most frequent in April and October, and most 
commonly produced by a northeast wind. | “ These huvrri- 
canes have this peculiarity, that their fury is generally dis- 
played in a narrow space, little more thaw half a mile broad, 
sometimes Jess, and only four or five miles ia length. In 
this space they tear up by the root the trees of the forest, 
and make openings through the woods, as'the sickle of a 
reaper would in passing over a few furrows ‘in a corn-field.” 
‘At other times, but these are rare, they traverse the ian 
length of the continent of North America. 


In this vast region, as in the North American continent 
in general, three seasons only fill the year, as here spring 
has no place. Though the cold is more severe than in Eu- 
rope, the winter is more tardy. This season commences 
not fully, till the middle of December, or a little before the 
solstice, even in the northern territories, though some inter- 
vals of bad weather occur more early. The difference of 
latitude between the northern and southern territories is so 


227 
CHAPTER 
Vil, 


great, a difference of fifteen degrees, that the difference of 


temperature in every season must be very considerable. In 


the northern and middle parts, the earth is covered with frost: 


and snow at the brumal solstice. A thaw frequently has 
place in January, but this is succeeded by a cold more in- 
tense. In February the_snows are most abundant, and the 


cold most piercing., March is tempestuous and chilling, 


with showers of snow; nor, till the beginning of May, even 
in Virginia proper, is vegetation so revived that the trees of 
2R2 


j 


228 


CHAPTER 
Vil, 





VIRGINIA. 


the forest reclothe ‘themselves with leaves; <“¢ ot whieh t is the 


more astonishing, since the rays of the meridian sun are in- 
sufferably scorching from the middle of April.” Thus from 
cold to: violent: heat the transition is sudden, ‘with the in- 
congruous circumstances of a freezing wind and a scorehing 
sun, a winter’s landscape and a:summer’ssky, . When vege- 
tation at length bursts forth, its progress is extremely rapid., 
Flowers are quickly sueceeded by. fruit, and: this. ripens 
more speedily than with us. _When the sun, rising highest 
above the horizon, heats the whole: continent, the northerly 
winds are repressed by those of the south and southwest, 
June brings on the most’ intense heats; July the heats of 
longest continuance, with the most frequent storms ; August 
and September the heats most oppressive, on account of the 
calms with. which they are accompanied. At length the 


autumnal equinox again arrives, and the series already 


stated. recommences ; thus dispensing to this country, in» 
the course ofa complete solar revolution, four months of 
heat, five or six of cold and storms, and only two or three 
of temperate weather.” |The: last have place in autumn, 
which is more serene and pleasant than the other seasons, 


_ Some change is found to have: been effected in the seasons, 


however, since the arrival. of European colonists in these 
countries, by the partial destruction of the woods... “ The 
winters are shorter, the summers longer, and the autumns 
later, but, without any abatement of intenseness in. the 
winter's cold.” From the extension of the cause, the, clear- 


_ ing of the ground, by an encreasing population, still greaine ; 


changes may be expected in future times, 


‘ 


VIRGINIA. 229 


“When such alterations shall have been effected, the conn- ciaprer 
try will display a different face from that which it wears at ——— 
present. The following is a sketch of the appearance which = ““*. 
_ it exhibited at the end “of the eighteenth eentury. ‘Such © 
is the general aspect of the territory of the United States : 
an almost uninterrupted continental forest: five great lakes 
on the north : on the west extensive savannahs: in'the cen- 
ter a chain of mountains, their ridges running in a direction 
parallel to the sea coast, and sending off to the east and west 
rivers of longer course, of greater width, and pouring into 
the sea larger bodies of water, than ours in Europe, most of 
them having cascades or falls from twenty to'a hundred and 
forty feet in height, mouths spacious as gulfs, and on the 
southern coasts marshes above two hundred and fifty miles 
in length: on the north snows remaining four or five 
months in the year: on a coast of three hundred leagues 
extent ten or twelve cities, all built of brick, or of wood 
painted of different colours, and’ containing from: ten to 
sixty thousand inhabitants: round these cities farm houses, 

‘built of trunks of trees, and termed log-houses, in the center 
of a few fields of wheat, tobacco,’ or maize; these’ fields. 
separated by a kind of fence made with branches: of trees, — 
instead of hedges, for the most part full of stumps of trees 
half burned, or stripped of their bark and still standing ; 
while both houses and trees are enchased as it were in the 
masses of forest, in which they are swallowed up, and dimi- 
nish both in number and extent the farther you advance 
into the woods, till at length from the: summits of the hills 
you perceive only here and there a few little brown or yel- 
low squares on a ground of green. Add to this a fickle and 


230 


VIRGINIA, 


cHAPTER yariable sky, am atmosphere alternately very moist and. Wery 
———r— dry, very misty and very clear, very hot and very cold, and 


History. 


a temperature so changeable, that, in the same day, you 

will have spring, summer, autumn, and winter, Nvenbagiah 
frost and an African sun... Figure to yourself these, and you 
will have a concise physical sketch of the United States.’* 
The vast woods however afford, after the first frosts, a fine 
object to the eye... * These frosts wither the\leaves of the 
forests, and from this, moment their verdure assumes tints 
of violet, dull red, pale yellow, and mortdoré brown, which 


_ in the decline ‘of autumn, imparts to American landscapes a 


charm and splendour unknown to those of Europe.” 


The early emigrations, from the. » beautifully culiitinted 


_ face and.mild atmosphere of England, to the American wil- 


derness and its then frightful atmosphere, must doubtless 
have been caused by motives of nocommon urgency. The 
first discoverer of this part of the American continent was 
Gaboto, called Cabot by the English, a Venetian in the ser- 


vice of Henry the Seventh of England, who sailed along the 


coast from the vicinity of Newfoundland to Virginia proper. 
No celony however was sent thither by the English, till 
the year 15$5, when a small settlement was formed by the 
celebrated Sir WalterRaleigh, at Roanoke, in the present pro- 
vince of North Carolina. The whole of the region, which 
now constitutes the territory of the United States, was then 
named Vérginia, in henour of the great Elizabeth, the virgin 
queen. This appellation, not unbefitting the tervitory of a 


A* Volneyy po ther 


VIRGINIA. 


virgin commonwealth,-the first independent state or sove- 
reignty established by Europeans in the New World, seems 
‘still the most. proper geographical name to denote this 
region, as the term United States is not strictly geographi- 
eal, but im iact political. This attempt entirely failed. 
The colony returned to England in the following year. 


Nor were other endeavours more successful, till, excited by 


the venerable Hakluyt, a clergyman, some persons of rank 
formed an association for the settling of a colony, and ob- 
tained a patent for the purpose from James the First. A. 
body of adventurers, who arrived in the gulf of Chesapeak 
in 1607, formed the first permanent, settlement of English 


, 231 


CHAPTER 
Vil. 


eolonists in. America, These,. however met such discou- — 


ragement, that they were on the point of returning to Eu- 
rope in. 1610, when Lord. Delaware, a public-spirited noble- 
man, Janded with supplies, and renovated their hopes. 


They founded Jamestown at the mouth of the river James, 


the oldest English town m the American continent, a 
is now in a deserted comet 


An cuthusiasm for civil and religious liberty, at that time 
not enjoyed. under the English crown, excited emigrations 


to a part more unpromising in climate and in soil, the part. 


now called New England, but in those days North: Virginia: 
The town. of Plymouth in Massachusetts was founded in 
1621 by a hundred and fifty English adventurers; who 
braved all the terrors of the wilderness and its rigorous and 
morbifie atmosphere. The sad hardships and mortality, 
‘gustained: by these colonists, were not sufficient: to deter 
ethers, who were animated with a like spirit, from following; 





CHAPTER 
Vib 


VIRGINIA. 


their example. The intolerance of the government of 
Charles the First’so encreased emigration, that, before the 
end of the year 1630, four other towns were founded in 


_ New England, one of which-was Boston, since become the 


capital. The emigrations would have becn greater, if they 
had not been stopped: by the tyranny of Charles, who em- 
bargoed the ships destined: for America, neither suffering 
his subjects to enjoy liberty of conscience at home, nor to 
seek it in the wilds of the transatlantic hemisphere. ‘Thus 
were prevented from bidding: an eternal adieu to their na- 
tive country Cromwell, Hampden, and ‘others, who were 
afterwards instigators of a revolution at home, which de- 
prived this monarch of his crown and life. The enthusiasm — 


for their favourite modes of worship, which prompted the - 


early colonists of New England to encounter the perils and 
afilictions of such an exile, inclined them to deny, in their 


new settlements, that toleration to others, the’want of which 


they had found so grievous in the Jand of their nativity. 


' Hence arose dissentions among the colonists, many of 


whom removed to other parts ‘of this region, where they 
established settlements under jurisdictions distinct and sepa- 
rate from that’ of the original: colony. A gloomy spirit of 
fanaticism, and still far more an unhappy belief in witch- 
craft, caused a long time distractions in this country, which 
at length were quieted by a sense of the evil occasioned by 
the delusion... se 


As New England was planted by puritanic protestants, so 
another part, denominated Maryland, in honour of Henrietta 
Maria, the Queen of Charles the First, received, in the year 


VIRGINIA. 


1633, a colony of Roman Catholics; who found their situa- 
tion uneasy in England, where the laws and popular preju- 
_ dices were adverse to their sect. The leader of the emi- 
grants, who originally consisted of two hundred families, 
was Lord Baltimore, whose conduct was honourable to the 
religion which he professed, as, by his liberal toleration of 


all sects, he rendered the colony prosperous. A small plan- 


tation of Swedes, who had made a settlement in the vicinity 
of New England, became incorporated with one much 
larger, or more powerful, formed by the Dutch. This. was 
conquered in 1664 by the English, who retained possession, 
and gave to the acquired territories the names of New 
- York and New Jersey. The colony instituted on the fairest 
principles was that of Pensylvania, founded in 1682 by 
William Penn, a celebrated quaker, who, for a debt due 
from the crown, had obtained a grant of the country from 
Charles the Second, with ample powers of legislation. Not 
thinking himself entitled to the property of the land by the 
royal patent alone, he purchased that property from the 
aboriginal inhabitants, with whom he entered iito a formal 
treaty. This treaty, says Voltaire, ‘“‘ was the only. one 
ever concluded between savages and christians which was 
not ratified by an oath, and the only one which was never 
broken.” For above seventy years indeed, or in fact so 
long as the quakers retained the chief power in the govern- 
ment of Pensylvania, the peace and amity promised in this 
compact remained inviolate. _ 


_ Carolina, so denominated from Charles the Second, was, 
‘by a charter obtained from that monarch in 1663, planted 


ll =) 


233 


CHAPTER 
Vil, 


bre 


934 


‘VIRGINIA: 


CHAPTER’ by a society of noblemen and others, who were vested with 


Vit. 


—_—_ at onte the property of the soil and the political jurisdiction. 


Though the colony was furnished with a code of laws for 
its government, composed by the celebrated John Locke, 
such: distractions among the colonists, and such hostilities 
with the Indians, were the consequences. of maladministra- 
tion, that the interference of. the British Parliament. was at 
length found necessary... The proprietors,accepted, in 1728, 
« compensation of twenty-four thousand pounds for the 
surrendry of their rights: the government of the colony 
was new modelled ; and the territory was divided into. the 
two provinces of North Carolina, and South Carolina, with 
separate administrations. This was the era, of prosperity 
to these provinces, which have. since improved rapidly in 
riches and population. A similar fortune attended the plan- 
tation of Georgia, so denominated in. compliment to George 
the Second, and colonised under the inspection of General 
Oglethorpe in 1732. Such dissentions arose from political 
defects, that the colony was on the point of dissolution, 
when, in 1752, the grievances of the planters were removed 
by'the British Government, who reformed the constitution 


- on the model of the Carolinas. 


The histories of ‘the several’ colonies afford for a long 
time little matter which can be at present very interesting, 
such as wars with the savages, intestine troubles, invasions 
of some of their charters by the kings of the Stuart race} 
and the restoration of their liberties in consequence of the 
British revolution under the auspices of William. From 
wars between France and Britain arose hostilities between 


VIRGINIA, 


235 


these colonies and those of the French in Canada, Dis-  cuaprex 
putes were at different times adjusted by treaties between 7 


the mother countries ; but at length the court of France » 


formed a plan, which was brought near to.completion, for 
the destruction and subjugation of the British settlements 
in America. This was the forming of a chain of fortresses 
from the Saint Lawrence river to the Missisippi, which 
would have confined these settlements within very narrow 


the assistance of the savages, the entire force of all. whose 
tribes they ‘would thus be empowered to employ. The 
plan was frustrated by a war, in which the British troops 
conquered ‘Canada in ithe year 1759, and annihilated the 
French power in the North American continent. Unfor- 
tunately the British government, whose arms had protected 
its American subjects,soon adopted, under anew reign, that 
of George the Third, very arbitrary measures, and turned 
its arms against these subjects, in a war which terminated 


in the establishment of :the independence of the colonies” 


from every sort of:subjection to the king of Britain. These 
had so prospered :under their free constitutions, that their 
population had encreased to two millions, and was still in 
a state of rapid progression. The scheme of the British 
ministry for the abolition:of their berties appears,to have 
been part of a plan forthe establishment of despotism over 
the British nation, which plan .became .abortive by their 
successful resistance. The ministerial pretext for the, inva- 
sion of the-rights.of the-colonies was the raising of a, royal 
revenue from them:in addition to:that of Great Britain and 
Ireland. Maseit 
222 


236 


CHAPTER 
VI 





VIRGINIAY. 


These colonies wete governed internally by their several 
assemblies of ‘elected representatives, in which presided 
governors nominated by his Britannic Majesty, and” had 
never been taxed otherwise than by their own representa- 
tive bodies, in like manner as Ireland by its own parliament. 
External taxation, on the system of commercial restrictions, 
the right of which was not disputed, had been exercised by 
the parliament of Britain toward these dependent states. 
« Customs had been imposed on certain enumerated goods, 
if carried to some other place instead of Britain ; and when 
specific articles, the produce of one colony, were to be ex- 
ported to another, they paid a duty. To these imposts, 
considering them merely as regulations of trade, and not 
as taxes, the colonies had submitted.” 

To impose internal taxes on these states, by the mere 
authority of the British parliament, could never have been 
the wish of any minister who was wise, and consequently 
honest. The clear and comprehensive mind of Sir Robert 
Walpole, the real friend of his country, spurned at the idea. 
Beside other declarations, he on one occasion thus expressed 
his thoughts: ‘I will leave the taxation of America for 
some of my successors, who may have more courage than I 
have, and be less a friend to commerce than 1 am. It has 
been a maxim with me, during my administration, to en- 
courage the trade of the American colonies in the utmost 
latitude: nay, it has been necessary to pass over some irre- 
gularities in their trade with Europe: for, by encouraging 


them to an extensive growing foreign commerce, if they 


gain five hunared thousana pounds, I am convinced, that, 


VIRGINIA. 


237 


én two years afterwards, full. two hundred and fifty thou-- cnaprer 
sand pounds of their gain will be in his. Majesty’s exche- — 


quer, by the labour and product of this kingdom ; as im- 
mense quantities of every kind of our manufactures go_thi- 
ther, and, as they encrease in their foreign American trade, 
more of our produce will be wanted, This is taxing them 
more agreeably to our own constitution and to. theirs.” 
This was doubtless the most. productive mode possible of 
drawing a revenue from the colonies., Two millions annu- 
ally were computed, to, accrue. to the royal treasury from 
their trade, and this income, from the rapid augmentation 
of their population and commerce, might doubtless have en- 
creased to an incalculable pitch. So far indeed were the 
whig ministers of the first and second George from impos- 
ing taxes on them, that they procured for them consider- 
able sums from parliament to compensate their services in 
wars against France... 


The merit or demerit of giving commencement to a series 
of aggressions on the free constitutions of the American 
states rests with George Grenville, who, previously to his 
imposition of an internal tax on the colonies, took measures 
to render them less able than. they had been to contribute, 
by any impost, to the augmentation of the royal revenue. 
A clandestine traffic had long been maintained between the 
English and Spanish colonies, to the great advantage of 


both, more especially of the former, and greatly to the emo- 


lument of Britain also, as British manufactures were by this 
channel conveyed into the Spanish settlements, and large 
quantities. of silver received in return, To this beneficial 


288 


CHAPTER 
pit | ee 


ameter, 


commerce, contrary not to British laws, but merely to Spa- 
nish, “a “telnination was ‘put, in 1764, by the minister ‘of 
king “George, who acted on this occasion as if he werean 
officer of thie customhduse for the Spanish monarchy. Un- 
der’ the pretence of measures for'the prevention of smug- 
gling, for‘which he had’made laudable regulations in Eu- 
rope, he stationed‘a line 6f armed ‘ships, the commanders of 
which seized all vessels employed’in the prohibited trade 
with the Spanish plantations. ‘Beside the adoption of this 


_éxtraordinary measure, an-act of parliament was procured 


for granting of'certain duties:on goods in the colonies, and 
a declaration of the expediency of imposing also in them 
certain duties, ‘by means of stamped paper, which should be 
rendered necessary in pecuniary transactions. The passing 
of this ‘declaration into law was postponed till the succeed- 
ing’year, thatthe Americans might have time to offera com- 
pensation for the revenue which such a tax might produce. 


‘These Americans‘had sustained ‘a tremendous war from 
the ‘tribes of savages in'their neighbourhood, who, after the 
pacification'with France, had'secretly entered intoa general 
combination, and‘ had perpetrated the most horrible devasta- 
tions‘and’ butcheries, before they:could be compelled to ac- 
cept ‘a’peace. ~“Wantonly-deprived, on one side, of their 
lucrative commerce with the Spanish settlements, and deeply 
impressed on the other, with’a'sense of grievous losses sus- 
tained from thesavages, the colonists were in a state of great 
irritation. |‘ While such: was'the state of the public'mind 


~ in America, while ‘the yell'of Indian carnage was yet in their 


éars, and the smoke of their ruined habitations: -yet in ‘their 


VIRGINIA. 


eyes, their rage and despair. were further enflamed by the 
arrival of the British resolutions for imposing taxes. A 
more unfavourable moment’could not. have been selected.’ 
They saw in these resolutions the first appearance of an ex- 
tensive plan formed against their liberties and properties, 
They determined therefore to strike at once at.the basis. of 
it “‘ by denying the right of the mother country to impose 
taxes on the colonies, which, not being represented in par- 
liament, did neither really nor virtually consent to the im- 
position.”* | 


Notwithstanding all. the dissuasive arts of the colonists, 
who employed agents to present petitions in England 
against the proposed taxation, a bill, called the stamp-act, 
was passed by the British parliament, in 1765, for the rais- 
ing of an internal tax in America. The chief of these agents 
was Doctor Benjamin Franklin, the planner of opposition 
to the ministerial schemes of American mancipation. “ Bred 
a printer, this extraordinary man, through genius and in- 
dustry, regulated and directed by judgement, rose to a high 
piimacle of physical discovery. He soon shewed that the 
mind, which could elicit fire from the heavens, could con- 
verge and reverberate the rays of moral and political light.”t 
On the notifieation of the stamp-act in America, the colo- 
nists, from sullen displeasure, were roused into overt acts of 
violent resentment. Resolutions were formed throughout 
the states not to import any of the merchandize of Britain 


* Adolphus, Hist. George the Third, 
+ Bisset, Hist. George the Third, 


239 


CHAPTER 
Vil. 


240 


CHAPTER 
e.7S Nbata 





VIRGINIA. 


until the obnoxious bill should have been repealed. De- 
clarations were voted by the provincial assemblies in con- 
demnation of the impost. So general a combination was 
formed to prevent by force the use of stamped paper, that 


none dared to attempt either to distribute or to receive it. 


Ministers, taking a middle course between two opposite 
parties, the yeaa of liberty afid the planners of despo- 
tism, procured, in 1766, a repeal of the offensive bill, and 
at the same time a vote asserting the right of parliament to 
tax the colonies. In the following year duties were imposed 
on some articles, payable on importation into America. To 
frustrate this plan the colonists resolved not to import any 
of these articles. 


- After various disputes, and a riot at Boston, between the 
mob and the soldiery, in which a few of the former were 
killed, tranquillity was in great measure restored by the 
repeal of the censurable imposts, in 1770, except on very 
moderate of three-pence a pound on tea, which was retained 
for the maintenance of the right arrogated by the parli- 
ament. Determined always to resist such a claim, the 
Americans adhered to their former agreements of non-impor- 
tation with respect to tea, but rescinded their resolutions 
concerning all the other articles. Great discontents arose 
in Massachusetts in 1772, and the succeeding year, from 
innovations in their political constitution, and the discovery 
of hostile sentiments entertained against them. These dis- 
contents were communicated to the other colonies by means 
of corresponding committees. Amid the, general ferment 
intelligence arrived, that many cargoes of tea were con- 


VIRGINIA,” 


signed from England to the ports of America, under the im- 
post specified above. Measures so effectual were every 
where taken, that in no place was the sale of this merchan- 
dize permitted. Without attempting to land it many ships 
returned to Europe. Where its landing was effected, ‘it 
perished unsold in warehouses. At Boston, where the go- 
vernor consented not to the return of the cargoes to Europe, 
a mob, disguised in the garb of Mohawk savages, boarded 
the ships, aad committed all the tea to’ ‘the waves of the 
ocean. | 


When all attempts for the taxation of the Americans, by 


the mere authority of the British legislature, were thus ren-— 


dered abortive, ministers had recourse to coercive measures, 


for the attainment of their ends by the terror or force of 


arms. Boston and the province of Massachusets were the 
first objects of ministerial resentment. Bills for this purpose 
were enacted by parliament; one for the closing of the port 
of Boston, or the total suspension of the commerce of that 
city, until it should demonstrate full proofs of its obedience ; 
another for such a change i in the constitution of the province, 

as to abrogate: its sinter and to render it virtually subject 
to the arbitrary will of the king or of his deputy; anda 
third for the empowering of the governor to send for trial to 
England any persons accused of murder, or any other capital 


crime, committed in the execution of the laws. This wasin — 
fact a bill of indemnity for all violences perpetrated by the ad- 


herents of the crown in the enforcement of obedience. The 
unexpected intelligence of these proceedings spread asto- 
nishment and alarm through the colonies. 'The punishment 


H h 


244 


CHAPTER’ 


Vit. 


242 


e 


sf 


of one province for having resisted a tax which all had re- 
sisted was a manifest indication of danger to all. Deputies 
from all the provinces, except Georgia, met in general 
congress at Philadelphia, in 1774, 0n the fifth of September, 
to consult for their common safety. They framed a decla- 
ration of the principles and. objects of their association, a 
petition to the king and addresses tothe people of Britain 
and the colonies These were compositions of a masterly 
kind. “ Perhaps never subjects offered to their sovereign 
an address consisting of stronger and more comprehensive 
reasoning, with more impressive eloquence.”* The sum of 
their demands amounted to the restoration of their constitu- 
tional and chartered rights; but all their applications were 
treated with imperious contempt, and an army was sent to 
Boston for the reduction of Massachusets, the prime object 
to ministers of coercion and punishment. 


A skirmish at Lexington, in 1775, on the nineteenth of 
April, between a body of militia and a detachment of the 
British garrison at Boston, sent to destroy American stores 
at Concord, was the commencement of a civil war in Ame- 
rica of seven years’ duration. To give here a narrative of 
the various events of this unhappy war, unjustly waged by 
the mother country against her children, comports not with 


- the plan of this publication. Of these I have written a brief 


account in my history of the British Islands. The general- 
issimo of the colonists, in this rueful contest, was George: 


* Bisset. + Gordon's History of the British Islands, Great Britain and 
Treland jointly, vol. 4, chap. 71 and 72. 


a 


VIRGINIA: 


ws 


Washington, a native of Virginia proper, who had served in cHapTER 


the American militia in the war against France, in which he 
had evinced strong military talents. This leader, like the 
Roman Fabius, was obliged long to confine his operations 
to defensive warfare, from the great inferiority of his troops 
in diseipline, equipment, and even in number. He avoided 
the shock of battle, and, while by various means he impeded 
the enemy’s progress, he endeavoured to preserve his men 
by retiring from post to post. And indeed nothing ean 
shew more forcibly the zeal of his soldiers in the cause of 
freedom, and his imfluence over them, than the hardships to 
which they were persuaded to submit. ‘“ His troops were 
in a state of such deplorable misery, that sometimes their 
march, from one place of encampment to the other, might 
he traced by the blood which their bare feet left in the snow, 
and hundreds were without blankets,” in these distressful 
movements. 


Though consternation, from. the successes of the royal 
arms, pervaded the Americans, the congress, who fled for 
safety in 1776, from Philadelphia to Maryland, never in the 
least betrayed any symptom of despondency, but made vigo- 
rous exertions for a renovation of the contest, and published 
an appeal well calculated to resuscitate the spirits of the 
people. The efferts of the congress were in no. small de- 
gree seconded by the conduct of the British commanders, 
who drove by despair to the ranks of rebellion multitudes 
well inclined to the British government. Above all the 
atrocious behaviour of the German mercenaries in British 
pay, pavticularly in New Jersey, filled with desperation 


2n2 


2A+ 


VIRGINIA, 


cHAPTER those who were willing to reunite with the mother country. 





- Details of the enormities were taken on oath and published: 


by the congress, When those who submitted found their 
condition worse than that of those who resisted, their minds 
received a bias repugnant to loyalty. Unwilling to expose 
herself to war, without a strong prospeet of success, yet 
wishing to embarrass her formidable rival, France had fur- 


 nished secretly military stores to the Americans, while she 
_made the most pacific professions to the court of Britain. 


At length, when a fair prospect of a favourable issue was: 
displayed, on the capture of a British army, under general 
Burgoyne, in 1777, she suddenly concluded a treaty of alli- 
ance with congress, which produced, in the following year, 
a war between France and Britain. Spain, from similar 
motives, joined.in 1779 the hostile confederacy against the 
British crown, whose forces proved inadequate, in the face 
of such a combination, to subjugate the colonies. Concili- 
atory propositions had been repeatedly made to the Ame- 
ricans by Lord North, the prime minister of Britain, which 
might have been severally effectual, if they had been pro- 
posed early enough, before events had taken place which: — 


~ eaused their rejection ; and now a virtual independence too: 


Jate was offered to the United States, in federal connexion: 
with the British crown. No situation-could, in sober judge- 
ment, be more desirable, but they could not with honour, 


perhaps with safety, violate their recent engagement with. 


France, to which they had been so imprudentiy driven. 


To this cause for the rejection of such advantageous. 
terms. of peace. might also have been added the then. esta: 


VIRGINIA. 


blished hatred of the colonists to their late sovereign and 
his partisans, whom they considered as having employed 
every possible mode of barbarous warfare for their destruc- 
tion, the burning of their towns, the devastation of their 
territories, the frightful licentiousness of the ferocious mer- 
cenaries from Germany, the instigation of slaves to murder 
or desert their masters, and the diabolical fury of the canni- 
bal Indians. Of the butcheries perpetrated among the 


eolonists one in particular has stained the British annals 
with indelible infamy. A band of sixteen hundred Indians: 
and American royalists, denominated tories, invaded the 


settlement at Wyoming, situate in a delightful tract on the 
river Susquehannah. Gaining possession of some forts by 
treacherous promises, and of others by force,-they put to 
death all the inhabitants of both sexes and every age, some 
thousands in number, inclosing some in buildings which 
they set on fire, and roasting others alive. They then 
maimed all the cattle, and left them to expire in agonies; 
and converted. the whole charming plantation into a fright- 
ful waste. Such were the deeds instigated by the ministers 
of a king, extolled to the highest pitch for compassionate 
clemency, and paternal affection for his subjects. To take 
vengeance on the Indians several parties of Americans 
made expeditions through the wilderness, in a a 
degree successful, 


After various turns of fortune, when the impossibility of 


conquest over the American states became too manifest to: 


admit a doubt, their independence was established in the 


beginning of 1783 by a treaty of general pacification. Both: 


Bw 


246 


CHAPTER 
Vit. 


VIRGINIA. 


Britain and her colonies sustained heavy losses by the war, 
and the condition of each party, after its conclusion, was 
considerably worse than before its commencement. Beside 
humiliating concessions to her old enemies, the French and 
Spanish courts, and the vast expenditure of blood, Britain 
added a hundred atid thirty millions to her public debt, and 
suffered an alarming dismemberment of her empire. She 
was burdened also with the maintenance of some thousands 
of American royalists, whose properties were confiscated by 
the governments of the United States for their hostilities 
against their compatriots, The expense of this to the Bri- 
tish nation amounted nearly to ten millions. An indepen- 
dence far less desirable than a free constitution under the 
British crown, was acquired by the Americans, at the ex- 
pense of devastations, a national debt of above seven 
millions contracted in the war, and a great loss of people by 
the sword, and by the expulsion of the royalists. Their 
population and riches have since rapidly increased, and 
wisdom directed their councils, so long as the great Wash- 
ington, who was elected their\chief magistrate, held a 
governing influence over their confederacy. For the exten- 
sion of their commerce and agriculture by the possession 
of the Missisippi and its fertile valley, they acquired the 
addition of Louisiana to their already vast. territorial domi- 
nion, by purchase from France, in a treaty conciuded in 
1803. This country had been discovered by Ferdinand de 
Soto, a Spaniard, in 1558, and had been very feebly colo- 
nized, in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, by the 
French, who called it Louisiana, from. Louis, the name-of 
their sovereign, and founded the town of New Orleans, its 


VIRGINIA. 


capital. Byatreaty between the courts of Spain and France, 
from secret motives, in 1763, the dominion of all this terri- 
tory was transferred to the Spanish crown; but, forty years 
after, under Napoleon Buonaparte, it was sold, as French 
property, to the United States. 


The natural prod uctions, the spontaneous growth, of the 
vast territory of these states, such as they were found by the 
first colonists, and such as they still remain where the face 
of the land has not been altered by agriculture, must vary, 
in a region of so great extent, with the nature of the soil, 
and temperature of the air. The indigenous trees, compo- 
sing the primeval forest, which, for the far greater part, still 
subsists, occasion, by their difference, a distinction or divi- 
sion of this immense wood into three parts, the southern, 
middle, and northern. The southern forest includes in ge- 
neral the maritime tracts from the gulf of Chesapeak south- 
ward, “ ona soil of gravel and sand, occupying in breadth 


from eighty to a hundred and thirty miles. |The whole of 


this space, covered with’ pines, firs, larches, cypresses, and 
other resinous trees, displays perpetual verdure to the eye, 
but would not on this account be the less barren, if the sides. 
of the rivers, land deposited by the waters, and marshes, 
did-not intermingle with it veins rendered highly productive 
by cultivation. The middle forest comprises the hilly part 
of the Carolinas and Virginia proper, all Pensylvania, the 
south of New York, all Kentueky, and the northwestern 
territory, as far as the river Wabash. The whole of this. 
extent is filled witly different species of the oak, beech, ma- 
ple, walnut, syeamore, acacia, mulberry, plumb,. ash, bireh, 


247 


CHAPTER 


VIL. 
(ARO ee 


Vegetables. 


‘CHAPTER 
VII. 





: 


sassafras, and’ poplar, on the coasts of the Atlantic; and, in 
addition to those on the west, the cherrytree, horse- chesnut, 
papaw, magnolia, sumac, and others, all of which indicate a 
productive soil, the true basis of the present and future 
wealth of this part of the United States. ‘These kinds of 
trees, however, do not any where exclude the resinous, 
which appear scattered throughout all the plains, and col- 
lected in clumps on the mountains. The third district, or 
northern forest, likewise composed of pines, firs, larches, 
cedars, cypresses, and others such, begins from the confines 
of the former, covers the north of New York, the interior 
of Connecticut and Massachusets, gives its name to the 
state of Vermont,* and, leaving to the deciduous trees only 
the banks of the rivers and their alluvions, extends by the 
way of Canada toward the north, where it soon gives way 


to the Juniper, and the meagre shrubs thinly scattered 


among the desarts of the polar circle.” + 


The trees in general, howsoever lofty, are not very gross, 
seldom exceeding thirty inches in diameter. In the low 
grounds, however, | of Kentucky, and other parts of the 
western territory, they are found much larger, sometimes 
eighteen or twenty feet in girth :{ and in the warm climates 
of the southern provinces, where splendidly flowering trees 
and shrubs abound, some species grow to an extraordinary 
size. The white cedar of the swamps is gigantic. Sup- 
ported by four or five immense roots or stems, which unite 


* Verd-mont in F rench ; grecn-mountain in English. — 
+ Volney, p. 9—11. | 
t Weld, vol. 1, p. 280. 


VIRGINIA, 


249 


at about seven feet aboye the ground, the trunk of this CHAPTER 
vil 
rises eighty or ninety feet, quite straight, and without any oe 


branches, except at top, where they fortis a kind of beauti- 
ful umbrella. But the chief ornament of the southern forests 
is the great magnolia. This rises above a hundred feet in 
height, with a perfectly straight trunk, supporting a shady 
cone of dark green branches, with purely white blossoms 
shaped like roses, which are succeeded by crimson cones 
 econtaming red seeds. Among the indigenous products of 
the soil are the candleberry myrtle and the sugar maple. 
From the seeds of the former arises, by being boiled, to the 
surface of the water, a scum ofa greenish colour, which, 
when purified, is of a middle nature between tallow and 
wax, serving for the making of excellent candles, and for 
other purposes still more valuable. The latter is a tree of 
about the size of the oak, the saccharine sap of which, pro- 
cured by extillation from incisions made for the purpose, 
yielded sugar by evaporations, in like manner as the juice 
of the saccharine cane. But neither the quantity of sugar 
obtained from this tree, nor of tallow from the myrtle, is 
sufficient for its becoming an article of export, or even to 
supply the consumption of the inhabitants. Vines of various 


sorts are spontaneous and in plenty, One species, quite - 


like the vine which bears the common grape, is of so poison- 
ous a nature, as to blister the skin, when touched in the 
morning while moist with dew. 


The species of indigenous plants are extremely numerous, 


but require not here particular notice. Beside cotton and. 
tobacco, and indigo in the south, the chief object of agri- 


ri 


250 


VIRGINIA. 


CHAPTER culture is corn of various kinds, as wheat: barley, maize. 
Vil 





_and rice, the last in the Carolinas chiefly and in: Georgia, 
Tobacco, the favourite plant of Virginia proper, is much less 
cultivated now than formerly, since the crops of wheat have 
been found more:profitable. To clear the land from wood; 
and to render it arable, the practice in these regions is as 


elsewhere, to. burn the timber, and to convert its ashes to 


manure. ‘To exhaust the vegetative powers: of the soil. by 
the incessant culture, without a renovation of manure, and 
then to leave it waste in astate of sterility, has formerly 
been, but is not quite so much now, the custom. ‘The lands 
thus abandoned, remain.almost bare, or covered with use- 
less herbs, such as a kind of coarse grass or sedge, which is 
wholely rejected by cattle, and which turns yellow at the 
approach of winter. The fruits are mostly of the same kinds 
as in Europe, but, except where they are carefully cultivated 
in gardens, they are not of such quality as to. deserve much 
praise, as the peaches, for instance; which are small and 
little succulent. In comparison of the English, the Ameri- 
can farmers are accounted ‘slovenly, insomuch that, even in 


Pensylvania, one of the most agricultural provinces, a 


farmer is said: not to raise more from two hundred acres 
than one-in the well cultivated parts of England from fifty.* 
In Virginia proper, and the provinces situate farther. south- 
ward, the works of the fields are performed by slaves. 
Among these are many, on the estates of some planters, who 
are employed in handicraft works, such as those of car-. 
penters, tanners, and wheelwrights. 


* Weld, vo). 1,.p. 112, 113.. 


VIRGINIA. 


~The cattle and other domestic animals of Europe have 


been imported into the territories of the United States, and 


are long naturalized in them. Of the indigenous kinds, 
which are noticed in my accounts of Northwestern America 
and of Canada, some have disappeared, and some have be- 
come scarce, according to the extension of agriculture, and 
the destruction made by hunters. The deer, which had 
‘become comparatively few, have begun to increase again in 
the woods of this region, particularly in the province of 
New York, where laws have been enacted against the wan- 
ton waste of these quadrupeds, since the venatic savages 
have abandoned these territories, and retired far westward. 
The wild fowl, particularly on the great rivers, are vastly 
numerous, and excellent as food, especially a species called 
the white duck or canvass-back, which is eagerly sought by 
epicures. Snipes are seen in prodigious numbers in. the 
marshes. Immense flights of wild pigeons pass sometimes 
here as in Canada’ The turkey buzzard, a kind of vulture 
which devours putrid carcases, is, on account of its utility in 
that respect, taken under the protection of law in Caro- 
lina. The birds are in general quite different from those 
of Europe, though many of them have received the same 
appellations from English colonists. Thus a bird, called 
a partridge, from a similitude of its appearance, has 
the size of only a quail: The singing birds in , Virginia 
proper are accounted the finest in America. ‘ The notes 
of the mocking bird, or Virginian nightingale, are in parti- 
cular most melodious. This bird is of the colour and about 
the size of a thrush, but more slender. It imitates the song 
ef every other bird, but with increased strength and sweet- 
212 


251 


CHAPTER 
Vil, 


Animals, 


. 252 


CHAPTER 
VII. 





VIRGINIA. 


ness. The bird, whose song it mocks, generally flies away, 

as if conscious of being excelled by the other, and dissatis-- 
fied with its own powers.”* On the whole amount, how- 

ever, the feathered tribes in these forests are inferior to the 
European in melody. Some are highly brilliant in plumage, 
as the blue bird, of about the size of a linnet, and the red 

bird, which is less than a thrush, and is of a vermilion hue, 
with a tuft on its head. A bird called whipperwill, from its. 
loud and plaintive cry, resembling that articulate sound, 

which it begins at the dusk, and continues through the 

greater part of the night, is so extremely seldom seen, that 

some have imagined the noise to proceed from some species. 
of frog, and not from any animal of the feathered kind. 


The frogs of this country are of various. sorts and make 
various kinds of noises ; some absolutely whistle, while the. 
loud croaking of others is like the cry of a calf. This loud 
sound proceeds from. the bull frog, which grows to the 
length of seven inches, and moves with great agility, making 
leaps of prodigious length. ~ The serpents are also in great 
variety. Some species are harmless, as the black snake,. 
which is often six feet long, but very slender, and some: 
beautifully variegated sorts, as the ribbon snake, the garter, 
and blueish green. Some are venomous, as the rattlesnake 
and the mocassin. The poison.of the latter, called also the 
copper snake, is found less subtle than that of the former, yet 
is mortal, without proper care. Among the insects is the 
fire-fly, which illuminates the nights in summer, in the sou- 


w. Weld, yol. 1,.p. 195.. 


VIRGINEA. 


thern parts. To the indigenous tribes of this numerous 
class of animals have been added’ some by accidental or 
designed importation. Thus the weevil, a species of moth, 
formerly unknown; has committed great havoc in corn in 
the latter part of the eighteenth century, in the maritime 
tracts, as also the Hessian fly, supposed to have been im- 
ported in the baggage of the German mercenaries, in the 
war waged for the subjugation of the British colonies in 
America. Of a very different character is the bee, which 
appears to have been designedly carried: here from the an- 
cient continent. Of the countless tribes of aquatic animals, 
which swarm along the coast and in the rivers, I shall men- 
tion only one, the oyster, which abounds in the streams of 
fresh water. These oysters, until they have undergone the ac- 
tion of fire, are unpalatable to Europeans; while those of Eu- 
rope are not, in any state, well relished by the Americans. 


This region in general seems far from deficient in a va- 
riety of minerals and other fossils ; but iron as yet is the 
only metal which has been drawn in great quantity from 
the bowels of the earth. The ore of this metal, which in 
Maryland, Pensylvania, and Virginia proper, is found ex- 
tremely tough, and fit for casting, for the making of cannon 
and other purposes, is procurable in abundance, without 
much trouble, at little depth beneath the surface. Mines 
of lead, copper, and other minerals, have also been disco- 
vered, but not extensively worked. Vast and: numerous. 
beds of coal, stores for the use of future generations, lie at 
present mostly neglected, as wood, which is so abundant, is- 
preferred for fuel. Fossil salt and saline springs are copious: 


253 


CHAPTER 
Vil, 


Fossils, 


254 


CHAPTER 


Vu. 





in many parts. Stone for building and other purposes is 
procurable in general with convenience in sufficient plenty. 
According to the kind which forms the substratum of the 
soil in different parts, the territory of the United States is 
distinguished into different regious.* The granitic region, 
where ‘the soil rests on beds of granite, which forms the 
skeletons of the mountains, and admits beds of a different 


nature only as exceptions,” extends from Long Island to 


the mouth of the Saint Lawrence, and from the coast be- 
tween these limits to Lake Ontario. The region of sand- 
stone comprehends the’ mountainous country, from the 
rivers Mohawk and Hudson, and the sources of the Sus- 
quehannah, southward to the northwestern angle of Georgia. 
The calcareous region, where the soil is found to rest on 
an immense stratum of limestone, occupies the land from 
the Tenessee to the Saint Lawrence, between the moun- 
tains and the Missisippi. A stratum, or low ridge, of talky 
granite, foliated stone, or Muscovy glass, from two to six 
miles broad, and nearly five hundred long, runs in a direc- 
tion parallel, to the coast, from the banks of the river 
Hudson to North Carolina. “This ridge every where 
marks its course by the falls which it occasions in the 
rivers, on their way to the ocean ; and these falls are the 
extreme limits of the tide :” but it is chiefly remarkable for 
being the line of, separation between two regions, that of 
marine sand and that of alluvious soil. The former, in 
breadth from thirty to a hundred miles, between the ridge 
and the Atlantic, consists chiefly of the substance from 


Volney, p. 43—72, 


VIRGINIA. 


which’ it takes its name. The soil of the latter, between 
the ridge and the mountains, is composed of various sub- 
stances, which appear to have been carried from the high- 
dands by the rivers, 


The commerce of these regions has been, and may pro= 


bably long continue to be, rapidly progressive, with the 
progress of population, and. the extension of agriculture. 
The articles of export chiefly consist of the produce of 
‘the forests, of the mines, of the-cultivated farms, and of the 
fisheries, beside the peltry obtained in traffic from the sa- 
vage tribes who inhabit vast wilds in the west. ‘Thus we 
find these articles principally to be timber in various forms, 
bark for tanning and dying, pitch, tar, turpentine, potashes, 
iron in pigs and bars, wheat, maize, rice, tobacco, live 
eattle, beef, pork, dried and pickled fish, and’ skins and furs 
of various quadrupeds. ‘The value of the exported articles, 
produced within the territories of the United States, 
‘amounted, in the year 1803, to‘above forty millions of dol- 
lars; and that of the articles-of foreign: produce to above 
thirteen millions. The values of both had in 1801 been 
~ greater, more especially of the: latter, which had even 
exceeded forty-six millions: but the trade encreased:after- 
wards, insomuch that in 1806, the exports exceeded: in 
_ value a hundred. millions of dollars, or twenty-five mil- 
lions of British pounds. The imports consist chiefly of 
various manufactured goods from Europe, sugar and other 
products of the West Indian regions, tea and other 
-merchandize of southern Asia. The annual value of the 
imports from. the British Islands alone had arisen:to twelve 
millions of pounds, before the traffic was interrupted by 


255 


CHAPTER 
VI. 





Commerce, 


256 


CHAPTER 
Vir. 


Area 


Population, 


VIRGINIA. 


political disputes, early in the nineteenth century. The tun- 
nage of shipping employed i in the commerce of the United 
States amounted in 1801 to above a million of tuns, of 
which not quite a hundred and fifty- eight thousand were the 
property of foreigners. ‘To what state it may arise in future 
ages, we cannot pretend to calculate with certainty, when 
the immense territory belonging to the United States shall 


have been furnished throughout with inhabitants. 


This territory extends above. eleven ‘eimitrad miles in 
length, since the acquisition of Louisiana, and perhaps still 
more in its greater breadth, if its western limits were deter- 
mined, and contains an area of about a million of square 
miles, or six hundred. and forty millions of English acres. 
The population is ill proportioned to so vast an area, which 
is for the far greater part entirely waste or very thinly 
peopled. .The best inhabitéd parts are the province of Mas- 
sachusets and others of New England, the southern territo- 
ries of New York, the interior of New Jersey, and the 
southeastern tracts of Pensylvania. In these on an average 
the population may be estimated at near eighty persons to 
the square mile, or at the rate of about forty acres to each 


family... 'Fhe whole amount of the population, or number of 


persons subject to the government of the United States, was 
estimated: in 1804 at above five millions and nme hundred 
thousand, and may doubtless since be supposed six millions. 
Of these above a million were blacks and mulattoes, or peo- 
ple of colour, and of this number above a tenth were free- 
men, the rest slaves. Still within the territories regarded as 
under the dominion of this government are several tribes of 


VIRGINIA. 


savages, conjectured, toward the end of the eighteenth cen- 
tary, to consist of sixty thousand persons, but continually 
diminishing in number from causes assigned elsewhere. 


The division of the vast country of the United States is 
immediately connected with its government. In the revo- 
lutionary war, in the defence of the colonial constitutions 
against the ageression of the mother country, affairs were 
conducted by a provisional administration, under the direc- 
tion of a congress, anid not till the year 1789 was a perma- 
nent system established. The government thus constituted 
is arepublic, composed of a number? of confederate states, 
each of which is separate and independent in its own internal 
administration. The sovereign power is vested in a president 
and two councils. The superior is called the senate, the infe- 
rior the house of representatives. The former consists of 
members elected for six years,two fiom each state; the latter 
of members elected for two years, each representing from 
thirty-three thousand to fifty thousand people, according tothe 
progress of population. The executive power is committed to 
the president, the supreme magistrate of the confederacy, elect- 
ed for four years by a majority of electors nominated for the 
purpose by all the states severally. He can pardon offences, 
except in cases of impeachment, but cannot form treaties 
with foreign potentates without the consent of two-thirds of 
the senators, who are also to advise in the appointment of 
ambassadors. A vice-president is also chosen, to supply, in 
emergencies, the president’s place. The great outlines of 
this government, only rendered more democratical, are 
. taken from that of England, as also the laws in general : 
Kk ~- 


257 


CHAPTER 
Vil, 


Government, 


CHAPTER 
vil. 





Divisione 


but these in some degree vary in the different states, each of 
which has its particular provincial constitution, governed 
commonly by a senate and house of representatives, elected 
every year. The judicial function is performed by one su- 
preme court of justice, and others of a subordinate rank, 
and judges are appointed during> good conduct. The city 
of Washington, in the district of Columbia, a district be- 
longing to no particular state, but to the whole confederacy 
in common, has been chosen for the residence of the presi- 
dent, and the seat of the federal government. The forces 
of the confederacy, military and naval, must vary with cir- 
cumstances, as also the revenue, the gross amount of which 
has been stated at above twelve millions of dollars. in 1802, 


_ butat little more than ten in the following year, at the rate 
| of about four. shillings and six pence to the dollar. The. 


national debt» may soon much exceed twenty millions of 
British pounds. 


The number of states composing this confederacy is liable 
to be augmented, according as the government, in the en- 
crease of population, may constitute new states, by confer- 
ring that honour on such provinces as may have become 
sufficiently populous to merit that consideration. In the 
revolutionary war the number of states was only thirteen ; 
but some have since been added, and others have grown into 
a state of admission, so that we may reckon them at eighteen. 
These are Vermont, New Hampshire, Massachusets, Maine, 
Rhode-Island, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Pen- 
sylvania, Delaware, Northwest territory, Maryland, Vir- 
ginia proper, Kentucky, North Carolina, ‘Tenessee, South 


VIRGINIA, 


259 


Carolina, and Georgia. The six first of these are compre- CHAPTER 


hended under the general denomination of New England. 
‘The modes of subdivision are not the same throughout the 
states. ‘Those of New England in general, New York, 
‘New Jersey, and Pensylvania, are subdivided into counties 
and townships; and most of the townships in New England, 
are again subdivided into parishes and precincts. The 
territories of the states which are situated to the south 
of Pensylvania, are genérally divided into counties only, 
‘The parts into which the lower country in South Carolina is 
divided are parishes, which are nearly of the same nature as 
‘counties elsewhere. . The division into parishes, which 
‘was originally ecclesiastical, cannot be expected now 
to be regularly maintained throughout a country in which 
no national church exists; for here all modes of faith and 
worship are quite in a state of political equality, the fol- 
lowers of none being excluded by law from offices in the ad- 
ministration. The sects are numerous; each supports its 
own clergy : and all maintain the same degree of concord as 
if they were members of one church. Doubtless they are all 
members of the church of Christ, except some deists and a 
small number of Jews. 


A territorial subdivision into townships, incorporated dis- 
tricts, with or without towns, has place in the northern states. 
As town and township in these countries are synonymous 
terms, a European traveller may be often disappointed in 
his expectation of meeting with a town, where only some 
scattered habitations can be seen. Many towns within the 
dominion of the United States are as yet in their infancy, 

252 


Vul. 


Religion. 


Towns. 


260 


CHAPTER while some have arrived at the summit of theit advance- 
_———— ment, and some have fallen intoa state of decline. In gene- 


Boston. 


ral those which are so situated, as to have a navigable com- 
munication at once with the ocean and the interior country, 
are progressive in population and wealth ; while those which 
have a less favourable situation are in a stationary or retro- 
grade condition. Thus Williamsburgh, formerly the capital 
of Virginia proper, is falling to decay, while Richmond 
and Norfolk, more especially the latter, are augmenting ra- 


_pidly. Many instances might be given ; but to be minute 


in the account of towns, in a country where changes are in 
such quick progression; that a totally different state of af- 
fairs may be expected in a time not far distant, seems not 
expedient. 1 shall particularize a few, in the condition in 
which they stood at the beginning of the nineteenth cen- 
pha 


Boston, the chief city of New England, in the county of 
Suffolk, and state of Massachusets, is seated on: a: small pe- 
ninsnla, at the bottom of Massachusets bay. ‘With the ex- 
ception of two or three streets, it is itregularly built, but 
displays a handsome prospect to spectators in the harbour,. 
from whieh it rises in amphitheatric form, adorned with 
spires, which are overtopped by a monument, commemorative 


of the revolution, on the highest spot, called Beacon-hilk 


The number of its. inhabitants. has been estimated at from 
ncar fifteen to near nineteen thousand. — Its-harbour is excel- 
lent, capable of containing five hundred ships in. safety, 
but of so narrow an entrance as hardly to admit more than 
two abreast. Krom the want however ef a navigable com- 


VIRGINIA» 


mimication with the:interior country, this city, one of the 
oldest in the United States, encreases very. slowly in trade 
and ——- 


| New York, ieectond ‘it of the United: States i in: » popu 
fation and commercial wealth, stands on: the southwestermr 
angle’of York Island, an insular tract, fifteen miles long, 
but not two in breadth; at the mouth of the Hudson river, 
washed also by the waters of the strait which separates 
Long Istand from the:main: With some. exceptions, par- 
ticularly & street called Broadway, which extends, with a 
breadth of near seventy feet, due northwatd almost from: 
shore to: shore, this town: is irregularly built and incommo- 
dious with narrow lanes ; but by its-vast extent of navigable” 
intercourse with the interior country, by the river Hudson, 


and other conveniences, it increases-so’ much in- wealth and: 
population, and, in-consequence of the fortner, improves to 


such a degree in the taste of the builders. that the additional 
parts are on a much better plan: Its inhabitants appear to 
have exceeded forty thousand in number at .the commence- 
ment of the nineteenth century. The roofs of the houses; 
which are generally. built of brick, are mostly covered with 
tiles. Here no bason-forms-a harbour; but the river, and 
the shelter of the Long: Island, afford sufficient accommoda- 
tion: to nips 


The sreatest city as yet im-all the territory of the United: 
‘States is. Philadelphia, the capital: of Pensylvania, situate 
between the rivers-Delaware and Skuylkil, five miles above 
their conflux, founded by. William Penn in. 1683, The 


CHAPTER 
VIL. 


New York, 


Philadelphie 


sie 


A eee 


cnapren space planned, by the founder, for the eroundplot of the 





city was a rightangled parallelogram, two miles long and 
one broad, extending to the banks of both rivers ; but suc- 
ceeding generations have so widely deviated from this plan, 
that the dwellings‘extend near three miles along the Dela- 
ware, and nowhere more than to the distance of a mile from 
its bank; anda part, called water-street, has been built 
along the river, between the bankand margin, in so low a 
situation as to have, by neglected filth, generated malignant 
distempers. ‘The houses, which stand outside the original 
groundplot, are said to be in ‘the liberties, as they are ex- 
empt from the jurisdiction of the corporation. In the’ liber- 
ties the streets are very irregular: but in the city, accord- 
ing to the projeetor’s design, they all intersect one another 


at right angles, and are from fifty to eighty feet broad, 


except the principal one, which is a hundred feet wide. They 


_are tolerably well paved with pebble stones in the middle, and 


with bricks for footways at the sides. Except a few of 
wood, the houses are of brick, but very few are elegant. 
With very little exception, the public buildings are heavy 
tasteless piles of red brick, ill according with the blue mar- 
ble, with which they are ornamented. The population of 
Philadelphia may have encreased to above fifty thousand, 
and may still encrease to a much greater pitch, from its 
advantageous position on the Delaware, which is navigable 
to this city by ships of war of seventy-four guns, by sloops 


thirty-five miles higher, and: by boats of nine tuns a hun- 
dred miles still farther, beside an extensive navigation on 


the Skuylkil. 


VIRGINIA. 


The greatest town in Maryland, though not aécounted 
the capital, is Baltimore, which from an assemblage of some 
huts of fishermen, grew in thirty years into a population of 
sixteen thousand, and doubtless now contains above twenty 
thousand persons.. The river Patapsco, on which it is 
situated, and which falls into the Chesapeak inlet, forms a 
harbour called: the bason, capable of holding within it two 
thousand merchant vessels, but ships mostly stop, for greater 
convenience of wind and depth of water, at a place termed 
Fell’s point, above a mile lower, where has been founded 
another town, encreasing fast in magnitude. The public 
buildings in Baltimore are mean, as are also the greater 
part.of. the private houses, which are mostly, however, con- 
structed of brick : but the plan of the town is good, resem- 
bling that of Philadelphia. The streets intersect mostly 
at right angles, and are from forty to sixty feet broad, be- 
side that the principal one is near eighty : but some are not 
paved, and consequently not clean.. 


Alexandria, seated om the southern bank of the river 
Patowmac, in Virginia proper, is at present small, but ex- 
pected to be of considerable magnitude in future times, 
from the advantages of its situation, whence it was origi- 
nally denominated Belhaven. It is as yet remarkable only 
for its extraordinary neatness in comparison with other towns 
in these countries. Fhe houses, are mostly of brick, and 
many of thein, extremely well built. The streets intersect 
one another at right angles, are well paved, and com~ 


‘modious. 


263 


CHAPTER. 
Vit. 


Baltimore. 





Alexandria, 


264 


CHAPTER 
. WAL, 





AVashington, 


harlestown. 


Washington ¢ity, thus naied from the great teader of 
the revolutionary American troops, intended for the seat of 
government of all the United States, and thence also dene- 
minated the federal city, is in a situation most happily chosen, 


as being central between the northern and southern tracts, 


and convenient for a navigable communication with the At- 
lantic, and an immense extent of country. It is seated on 
the Potamac, in the fork formed by that great river with what 
is called its eastern branch. The plan of this town, which is 
as yet in its infancy, but promises to be, in some future age, 
one of the greatest and most magnificent in the world, has 
been maturely studied, and is supposed to be superior to 
that of any other hitherto in existence. The streets, from 
ninety to abeve a hundred feet broad, cross one another at 
right angles; beside which are to be avenues, a hundred 


ad sixty feet wide, intersecting the streets obliquely, and 


hollow squares, at the mutual writeenisttedas of these avenues, 
destined for the reception of future monuments or decora- 
tions. Among the public buildings are the capitol, or 
house of congress, the parliament-house, as it were, of the 
United States, founded in a central spot, the highest in the 
city ; and,a mile and a half from this, the patace of the 
president, also im a commanding, and most beautiful situa- 
tion. é 


Charlestown, the capital of South Carolina, stands at the 
confluence of the rivers Ashley and Cooper, whose streams 
united form a capacious harbour. The ground plot is flat 
and low, and the water brackish; yet from ventilation of 
sea-breezes and from cleanliness, the air is accounted 


VIRGINIA. 


wholesome. The streets, from about thirty-five to sixty-six 
feet broad, in general, are tolerably regular. The houses 
are in great part neat, built of brick, and covered with tiles, 
The number of inhabitants, which has probably. since en- 
creased, amounted, toward the close of the eighteenth cen- 
tury, to between sixteen and seventeen thousand, of whom 
nearly eight thousand were slaves. 


In a country as yet containing so few towns of consider- 
able magnitude, and situated at so great distances asunder, 
the roads cannot be expected to be in general good. They 
are mostly indeed in very bad condition, particularly in low 
soft grounds, called bottoms, where they are often formed, 
as in Russia, of trunks of trees, laid transversely, side by 
side, which are apt to sink into the yielding soil, or to 
break by the repeated attrition of the wheels of waggons. 
Nor in general are the bridges in much better plight than the 
roads. ' 


The bridges are mostly of wood. Many of them, covered 
with loose boards, totter under the carriages which pass over 
them. Some of‘a floating kind are well contrived, of which 
we find three in the neighbourhood of Philadelphia, over the 


river Skuylkil. ‘ The floating bridges are formed of large 


trees, which are placed in the water transversely, and 
chained together. Beams are then laid lengthways upon 
these, and the whole boarded over, to render the way con- 
venient: for passengers. On each side there is a railing. 
When very heavy carriages go across these bridges, they 
sink a few inches below the surface of the water; but the 


ul 


265 


CHAPTER 
VIL. 


Roads, 


Bridges, 


266 


CHAPTER 
Vil. 


.VIRGINIA, 


passage is by no means dangerous. They are kept in an 

even direction across the river by means of chains and 

anchors, in different parts, and are also strongly secured oa 

both shores, Over that part of the river where the channel 

lies, they are so contrived that a piece can be removed to 

allow vessels to.pass through. These bridges are frequently 

damaged, and sometimes entirely carried away, during 
floods, at the breaking up of the winter, especially if there 

happens to be much ice floating in the river. To. guard 
against this, when danger is apprehended, and the flood 
comes not on too suddenly, they unfasten all the chains, by 
which the bridge is confined in its proper place, and then let 
the whole float down with the stream to a eonvenient part 
of the shore, where it can be hauled up and secured.’’* 
Bridges supported by boats are also in use, like that of 
Rouen in France, as.at Richmond in Virginia proper, over 
the river James. - 


Travellers are not better accommodated with inns than 
with roads and bridges. ‘* The mode of conducting them 
is nearly the same every where. The traveller isshewn, on 
arrival, intoa room which is common to every person in 
the house, and which is generally the one set apart for 
breakfast, dinner, and supper. All the strangers, who hap- 
pen to be in the house, sit down to these meals promiscu- 
ously, and, excepting in the large towns, the family of the 
house also formsa part of the company. It is seldom that a 
private parlour, or drawing-room, can be procured at any 


* Weld, vol. 1, p. 33: 


VERGINIAs 


of the taverns, even in the towns; and it is always with re- 
luctance that breakfast or dinner is served up separately to 
any individual. If a single-bed room can be procured, more 
ought not to be looked for; but it is not always that even 
this is to be had, and those, who travel through the country, 
‘must often submit to be crammed into rooms where there is 
scarcely sufficient space to walk between the beds.”* Often 


also “at each house there-are regular hours for breakfast, 


dinner, and supper ; and if a traveller arrives somewhat be- 
fore the time appointed for any of these, it is in vain to call 
for a separate meal for himself: he must wait patiently till 
the appointed hour, and then sit down with the ~enidie guests 
who may happen to be in the house.” + 


Descendants all of emigrants from Great Britain and Ire- 
land, except an admixture, small in proportion, of colonists 
from some other European countries, mostly from Germany, 
the people of the United States are almost wholly English 
in persons, language, manners, and customs. The devia- 
tions from this standard are slight, the consequences of local 
and political causes, ‘They seem to be in general of shorter 
lives than Europeans, and are almost universally subject to 
a very early decay of the teeth. The former may in great 
measure arise from the great and sudden changes of tempe- 
rature in. the air, which cause repeated colds and coughs, 


debilitating the frame. The latter is attributed, and both — 


seem in a considerable degree attributable, to the constant 
use of salt meat for food, the indigestions occasioned by too 


. * Weld, vol. 1, p28 © > » + Idem, vol. 1, p. 41a). 
2L2 ‘ 


267 


CHAPTER 
Vit. 


Inhabitants, 


268 


VIRGINIA, 


CHAPTER ° frequent eating, and the drinking of tea and other liquids in. 


a hot state. Local differences, however, have place among — 
them. ‘Thus in the lowlands of Virginia proper, the Caro- 
linas, and Georgia, the lower classes of people havea sallow: 
complexion and sickly aspect; while in the northern terri- 
tories and the highlands throughout, more especially the 
latter, they are florid and of a healthy appearance. Beside 
the descendants of Europeans, two other kinds of people. 
inhabit the territories of the United States. Indians and: 
Negroes. The former very few, and becoming annually 
still fewer, are elsewhere described. ‘The latter, very nu- 
merous in the southern provinces, not in the northern, are’ 
partly freemen, but mostly slaves. if 


The slaves are differently treated according to the dif- 
ferent disposition of their owners and the situations of 
affairs. In Virginia proper, “the slaves on the large plan- 
tations are in general very well provided for, and treated: 
with mildness. Their quarters, the name whereby their 
habitations are called, are usually situated one or two hun- 
dred yards from the dwelling house, which gives the ap- 
pearance of a village to the residence of every planter. Ad- 
joining their little habitations they commonly have smalk 
gardens and yards for poultry, which are all their own: 
property. They have ample time to attend to their own 
concerns, and their gardens are generally found well stocked, 
and their flocks of poultry numerous, Beside the: food 
which they raise for themselves, they are allowed liberal 
rations of salted pork and Indian corn. They are forced 
to work certain hours in the day: but, in return, they are 


VIRGINIA, 


269 


clothed, dieted, and lodged comfortably, and saved all CHAPTER 


anxiety about provision for their offspring. Still, however, 
as long as the slave is conscious of being the property of 
anottiey man, who can dispose of him aecording to the dic- 
tates of caprice, particularly amid people who are constantly 
talking of the blessings of liberty, he cannot be supposed to 
feel equally happy with the freeman. What is here said 
respecting the condition and treatment of slaves appertains 
to those only who are upon the large plantations in Virginia 


proper. The lot of such as are unfortunate enough to fall - 


into the hands of the lower class of white people, and of 
hard taskmasters in the towns, is very different. In the Ca- 


yolinas and Georgia, again, slavery presents itself im very - 


different eolours from. what it does even in its worst form in 
Virginia proper. It is no uncommon thing there to see 


gangs of negroes staked at a horse race, and to-see these 


unfortunate beings bandied about from one set of drunken 
gamblers to another, for days-together. How mucl: to be 
deprecated are the laws which suffer such abuses to exist! 
Yet these are the laws enacted by a people who boast of 
their love of liberty and independence, and who presume to 
say, that it is in the breasts of Americans alone that * 
blessings of freedom are held in just estimation.”* 


This furnishes an idea, far from favourable, of manners 


in the southern provinces. In fact the use of slaves, where- _ 
ever it prevails, is observed to contaminate the morals of the 
people ; nor can literature be supposed: to have extensive 


* Weld, vol. Ip De 14Qer] 520. 


Literature, 


270 


CHAPTER 
Vil. 


Mannen,. 


VIRGINIA. 


influence in such ‘a state of society. ~The: use of letters 
indeed, so far as the reading and. writing of the English 
language, is almost universally diffused, especially in the 
northern parts, and books in abundance are procutable. © 
from England. Yet literature, comparatively with Britain, 
was in a very low state at the conclusion of the eighteenth 
century. The colleges deserved rather the title of grammar 
schools, and. were in every respect very mean and poor.* 
These, however, have since increased in number and in 
merit. Academies have been. established, whose discove- 
ries and observations are regularly published. Information 
is much diffused by magazines and newspapers, though 
doubtless of inferior value, as in the British Islands; and 
with growing wealth and population, where the press is 
quite free, we may expect a growing knowledge and taste 
in literature. | ) . 


in manners the inhabitants of these countries, denominated 
collectively Anglo-Americans, are as yet much inferior to 
the people of the British Islands, as being in a state of 
society more immature. This difference is much more 
conspicuous in the lower than in the higher classes, and 
more in some provinces and cities than in others. Society 
may be naturally expected to improve, and future ages to 
present a picture different from the present; but we can. 
only state affairs as they are described in our own times, or at 
least toward the commencement of the nineteenth century. 

In politeness, hospitality, and the pleasures of conversation 


* Weld, vol. 1, p. 167, 168, 259. 


VIRGINIA. 


a7} 


and social intercourse, the gentry of Philadelphia are ac- ciarTEr 
; | Vil. 
counted the most deficient. Here, “ among the uppermost “—-———— 


circles, pride, haughtiness, and ostentation are conspicuous. 
In the manners of the people in general there is a coldness 
and reserve, as if they were suspicious.of some designs against 
them, which chills to the very heart those who come to 
visitthem. In their private societies a tristesse is apparent, 
near which mirth and gaiety can never approach. It is: no 


unusual thing, in the genteelest houses, to see a‘ party of 


from: twenty to thirty persons-assembled, and seated round 
a room, without partaking of any other amusement than 
what arises-from the conversation, most frequently in whis- 
pers, which passes between. the two. persons who are seated 


next to: each other. The party meets between six and 


seven in the evening: teais served with much form: and at 
ten, by which time most of the company are wearied with 


having remained so long stationary, they return to their 


homes. Still, however, they are not strangers to music, 
eards, or dancing. Their knowledge of music, indeed, is at 
a very low ebb ;. but in dancing, which appears to be: their 
most favourite amusement, they certainly excel.”* This 
doubtless is not in unison. with the system of the quakers, the 
founders. of this city and colony :. but the population is so 
altered by the influx of other sects, that quakers. now cons» 
stitute hardly a fourth part of the inhabitants. 


The conduct of affairs in the theatre of Philadel fii | 


gives not an idea of refinement in manners. ‘ Ashocking. 


2 Weld, vo}, 1, Pe 22, 


272 


“VIRGINIA. 


CHAPTER custom obtains of smoking tobacco in the house, which at 





times is carried to such an excess, that those to whom it is 


disagreeable are under the necessity of going away. To 


the people in the pit, wine and porter is brought between 
the acts, precisely as if they were in a tavern, The actors 
are procured, with very few exceptions from Great Britain 
and Ireland. None of them are very eminent performers, 
but they are equal to what are usually met with in the 


‘country towns in England.”* The gentry in Virginia pro- 


per appear to be higher in the scale of civilization. In the 
rural parts they closely resemble their English progenitors, 
especially in the lowlands, where they are celebrated for 
their politeness and hospitality toward strangers. The 
citizens of Baltimore in Maryland have a similar reputa- 
tion, as alo the gentry in other parts of this province: but 
the citizens of New York “ have long been distinguished 
above those of all the other towns in the United States, un- 
less the people of Charlestown should be excepted, for their 
politeness, gaity, and hospitality; and indeed, in these 
points, they are most strikingly superior to the inhabitants of 
the other large towns.” In general the people of the sea- 
ports, open to the Atlantic, are more improved in manners 
than those of the interior. 


With the exception of some sea-ports, the people of the 
lower classes in general are remarkable for an extreme rude- 
ness of demeanour, an extraordinary selfishness, a restless- 
ness with respect to their places of abode, a vexatiously 


® Weld, vol. 1, p. 24, 


WIRGINIA, 


278 


_ impertinent curiosity, and a proneness to faction. This cuapree 


rudeness is carried to its highest pitch in Philadelphia. 'The 
vulgar “return rude and impertinent answers to questions 
couched in the most civil terms, and will insult a person who 
bears the appearance of a gentleman, on purpose to shew 
how much they consider themselves upon an equality with 
him. Civility cannot be purchased from them on any terms. 
They seem to think that this is incompatible with freedom, 
_ and that there is no other way of convincing a stranger that 
he is really in a land of liberty, but by being surly and ill 
mannered in his presence.” A sullen and disobliging be- 
_ haviour is practiced even by those who are appointed to at- 
tend the guests atinns. “Nevertheless they will pocket 
your money with the utmost readiness, though without 
thanking you for it. Of all beings on earth Americans are 
the most interested and covetous.” #rom the character 
of restlessness and of a factious spirit the colonists from 
Germany are excepted : but “ by the desire of making mo- 
ney both the Germans and Americans, of every class and 
description, are actuated in all their movements. Self-inte- 
rest is always uppermost in their thoughts: Jit is the idol 
which they worship, and at its shrine thousands and thou- 
‘sands would be found, in all parts of the country, ready to 
make a sacrifice of every noble and generous sentiment 
_ whieh can adorn. the human mind.”* This thirst of gain is 
_.the cause of the restless and migratory disposition of the 
people, who are perpetually on the search for bargains of 
Jand, removing from place to ‘place i in quest-of their great 
“object. 


M Mm 


Vit. 





274 


~~ 


CHAPTER 
Vil. 





Seen 

In pursuit of this great end “the American is wholly ret 
gardless of the ties of consangiinity.. He takes his wife 
with him, goes to a distant part of the country, and:buries 
himself in the woods, hundreds:of miles: distant from. the 
rest.of his family, never perhaps to see them again,’ In-the 
back parts of the country you always meet numbers of men 
prowling about to buy cheap land: having found what they 
like, they immediately remove: nor, having once removed, 
are these people satisfied: restless, and discontented: with 
what. they. possess, they are forever-changiilg;  Itis. ‘searcely 
possible, in any part of the continent, to finda man, among 
the middling and lower classes.of Americans, who-has not 
changed his farm and residence many different times, 
Thousands of acres of waste land-are annually taken up in 
unhealthy and unfruitful parts of the country, notwithstand- 
ing that the best settled and healthy. parts of, the middle 
states would maintain. fiye times the number of inhabitants 
which they, maintain: at present. ‘The American, however, 
in every. change, hopes to make money.”*: The spirit of 
migration, which we find to have prevailed among the Phe- 
nicians, Grecians, and other nations of antiquity, by what. 
soever. motives-excited, is among, the means employed by. 
Providence for the peopling of the earth. 


The impertinent curiosity of the Anglo- Americans gives- 
great annoyance to.travellers. Immediately on his arrival 
among them, ‘a stranger must tell whence he came,. whi- 


ther he is going, what his-name. is, what his business is; 


and.until he gratifies their curiosity on these points, and \ 


* Weld, vol, 1,.p. 126, 


VIRGINIA, 


many others of equal importance, he is never suffered to re- 
main quiet fora moment. In a tavern he must satisfy every 
fresh set that comes in, in the same manner, or involve him- 
selfin a quarrel, especially if it is found out that heis not a 
native, which it does not require much sagacity to discover.” 
What renders this teazing custom still more provoking is, 
that these Americans “ scarcely ever give satisfactory an- 
swers at first to the enquiries which are made by a stranger 
respecting their country, but. always hesitate, as if suspicious 
that he was asking these questions to procure some lacal 
imformation, in order to enable him to over-reach them in a 
bargain, or to make some speculation in land to their in- 
jury.” Beside this, when it is known, ‘that a stranger is 
from Great Britain or Ireland, they immediately begin to 
boast of their own constitution and freedom, and give him to 
understand, that they think every Englishman a slave, be- 
cause he submits to be called a subject.” Yet they are never 
satisfied with the administration of their own government. 
They are forever cavilling at some of the public measures. 
Party spirit is forever creating dissentions among them, and 
one man is continually endeavouring to obtrude his political 
creed upon another.”* Their political constitution indeed 
is too democratical, whence im _— part arises the ae 
of their manners. | 


« Phe manners of the vulgar in the southern provinces, 
where doubtless they are worst, are more than rude, and 
may be justly denominated savage. Thus in Virginia pro- 


* Weld, vol. 1, p. 124, 125, 134. 
2u2- 


275 


CHAPTER 
Vil. 


276 





CHAPTER _ per, “ whenever these people come to-blows, they fight just 





| islands. 


like wild beasts, biting, kicking, and endeavouring to tear: 
each other’s eyes out with their nails. It is. by no means- 
uncommon: fo. meet with those who have lost an eye in a. 
combat, and there are men who.pride themselves upon the 
dexterity with which they can scoop: one out: This is 
called gouging: To perform the horrid. operation, the 
combatant twists his. fore fingers- in the sidelocks of his. 
adversary’s hair, and then applies his .thumbs-to the bottom. 
of the eye, to force it out of the socket: If ever. there is a: 
battle, in which neither of the persons engaged:loses.an eye, 
their faces.are however-generally cut in a shocking manner,. 
with the thumb nails, in the many attempts which are made 
at gouging, But what is.worse than all, these wretehes, in: 
their combat, endeavour: to their utmost to tear out.each. 
other’s’ virile parts. In the Carolinas and Georgia, the 
people are still more depraved in this respect that in: Vir- 
ginia proper; insomuch that in some particular parts of these: 
provinces, every. third or fourth man appears. with’ only: 
one éye.* 


The islands, which lie along the coast of this-vast region, 
are mostly of small iniportance in’ comparison of the im- 
mense extent of territory to which they are politically. 
attached. On the coast of Maine is-Mount-desart Island,. 
fifteen miles long, and twelve. broad, and containing, in the’ 


* Weld, vol, 1,p.192; The account here given, where I have-quoted 
only one traveller, if confirmed by several others. 


/ 


VIRGINIA, 


year 1790, between seven and eight hundred persons. “Two: 


isles, called Cranberry islands, situated on the southeastern 


side, assist to form a. harbour where an. inlet penetrates. 


pt the land. 


Nantucket; politically belonging to the state of Massa-- 


ohusets,. extending fifteen miles in- length, with a medial 


breadth of about four, and-containing a harbour, is inha- 
bited by near five thousand people, who- chiefly subsist 
by fishing, particularly for whales, in. the taking of which. 
they are inthe highest degree expert. The ancient woods. 


have been totally destroyed, and the Indians, who formerly 


amounted to near three thousand; have, without any wars. 
with. the colonists, become extinet by diseases and the use’ 


of rum. 


Martha's vineyard; belonging also to Massachusets, 


twenty-one miles long and six broad, contains between. 


three and four thousand inhabitants, who subsist by fishing, 
by agriculture, and by.the breéding of cattle: 


Block Island, and Fisher’s Island, the former of which, 
belonging politically to the continental state called Rhode 


Island, is inhabited by néar seven hundred people, are quite- 


inconsiderable; The latter is regarded as an appendage 
of Long Island, far the greatest of all on these coasts. 


Long Island, parted from the continent by a strait or 


sound fron: three to twenty-five miles broad, stretches to a. 


217 


CHAPTER 


= | a 


278 


VIRGINIA. | 


CHAPTER length of.a hundred and forty miles, with a medial breadth 





et eee, 


often, The land i in the northern parts is rough with hills ; 

in the southern low, with a light sandy soil. Tracts of salt 
meadow abound on the coast. Near the center of the 
island is Hampstead plain, sixteen miles long and eight 
broad; never known to, produce other vegetables of spon- 
taneous growth than a particular kind of grass and seme 
shrubs, although the soil, which is black, is apparently. rich. 
Eastward of this lies brushy plain, overspread with brush- 
wood, which gives shelter to a vast number. of grouse and 
deer. About the middle of the isle is a lake or pond, termed 
Rockonkama, about a mile in circuit, which is said to ebb 
and flow regularly in periods of years, from some unknown 
cause. The number of inhabitants, who are generally of 
Dutch descent, is estimated at near forty-two thousand, of 
whom near five thousand are slaves. This island, which 


- belongs to the state of New York, is divided into three 


counties, which are subdived into nineteen townships, 


Staten ‘Island, situated 1 nine miles southward of New 
York city, extents about eighteen miles in length,. with a 
medial breadth of six or seven. .It is rough with hills,.ex- 
cept. a level tract on the pa side. its inhabitants, 


mostly of Dutch and French. descent, are estimated , at 
nearly four thousand i in number. 


The rest of the islands are too isconsiderable to merit a 
description. _A chain of insulated stripes of land, or sandy 


beaches, above a hundred miles long, but hardly a_ mile. 


VIRGINIA. 279 


broad, mostly covered with small trees or bushes, from the cHAPTER 
boundary and shelter of Pamlico sound, on the coast of North — 
Carolina, from the Atlantic ocean. Ranges of small islands, 
at a short distance from.the continent, are seen along the 
coasts of South Carolina and Georgia. 








CHAPTER VIII. 








THE BAHAMAS, 


Termep also the Lucayas, form a numerous group of 
small islands, extending’ near seven hundred miles, in. a. 
northwesterly direction, from the vicinity of Hispaniola to 
that of Florida, parted from the vast island of Cuba by a 
sea called the Old Bahama Channel, and from the American, 
continent by another sea, improperly denominated the gulf 
of Florida. The greater islands, including clusters of isles,, 


are estimated at fourteen in number, the smaller at least at 


seven hundred. The latter consist in great part of rocky. 
islets and what are called quays by mariners... These quays 
or keys are small sandy isles, appearing a little above the. 


surf of: the water, and destitute of other vegetation than.a _ 


few shrubs or weeds. ‘The Bahamas in general are nar- 
row slips of: land, and, with little exception or variety, low 
in surface, but rising almost perpendicularly from the bot- 
tom of the ecean, in such a manner as to be immediately, 
surrounded with uufathomable water... Many of them are 
environed, altogether or in part, by reefs ‘of rocks parallel, 
to the shores, and at a small distance, from them, imme- 
diately outside of which the ocean often admits no soundings, 


Nn 


28) 


CHAPTER 
VIL, 


282 


CHAPTER 
Vill. 





HE BAHAMAS. 


but inside is found a bottom of fine white sand, or of rocks 
covered with sea weed. Great part of the tract of ocean 
over which these isles ate scattered is occupied by two exten- 
sive shoals, called the great and little Bank, of which the 
edges are in many places marked by. quays or islets, and 
the bottom of white sand, visible at the depth of twelve or 
iwenty feet, gives a kind of a light colour to both the sea 
and sky. The great bank in the south seems three hundred 
leagues in circuit: the little bank in the north not half so 
much. 


Although, from the light colour of the bottom, and the 
transparency of the water, navigation, with due attention, is 
easy and safe on the banks, yet these islands to navigators 
are dangerous in the extreme, particularly in the season of 
winter, from the violence and uncertainty of the currents 
and eddies. Often while the mariner is steering one course, 
he is carried by the current in an almost opposite direction, 
and finds his vessel in a desperate situation before he is 
aware. The island called the great Inagua, situated near 
the mouth of the channel between Cuba and Hispaniola, 
termed the windward passage, is quite infamous for ship- 
wrecks. On a dangerous reef, at some distance from its 
shore, many ships have been driven to inevitable destruc- 
tion. So perpetually expected are shipwrecks, that forty 
sail of small vessels, denominated wreckers, manned with 
expeft seamen, well-acquainted with every isle and channel, 
are licensed by the British government of the Bahamas to 
keep the sea in all weathers for the saving of the lives and 
properties of wrecked mariners, who pay salvage for the 
goods preserved by their exertions. 


THE BAHAMAS. 


283 


The extraordinary dangers of navigation among these CHAPTER 


islands are not ascribed to a tempestuous atmosphere. Al- ————= 


though in winter the weather is very inconstant, and strong 
gales often add to the peril of seamen, yet that season is not 
so uniformly boisterous here as in more northern latitudes, 
and the trade-wind, with a little deviation toward the north, 
continues mostly to blow. The winter is doubtless the 
least comfortable part of the year; yet its temperature: is 
so mild, that the trees are never entirely stript of their fo- 
liage, and the mean warmth of the air, in the hottest part 
of the day, is marked by at least seventy-two degrees of 
Fahrenheit’s thermometer. Toward the middle of March 
a vigour of yegetation, which. had previously been languid, 
denotes the spring. ‘The mean heat of summer, in the hot- 
test part of the day is rated at about eighty-six degrees of 
Fahrenheit. The mercury in that instrument has seldom 
risen above ninety degrees in the most ardent season, and 
as warely sunk below fifty in the coldest. Through the 
greater part of the year the sky is delightfully serene, the 
temperature generally agreeable, and the air at all times 
wholesome.* 


The isle of Guanahani, one of the Bahamas, was the 
first American land discovered in 1492 by the renowned 
Columbus, who named it Sau Salvador, from the safety 
which it afforded him from the perils of his voyage. By 
the cruelty of the Spaniards the innocent apd simple na- 
’ 


« The account of the Bahamas ‘is principally taken from Mac Kinnen’s, 
Tour through the British West Indies. London, 1804, adel - 


2u2 


284 


THE BAHAMAS. 


CHAPTER tives were in a’ few years wholly exterminated, and this. 





group of islands long remained ina desert state. From the 
representations of Captain Sayle, an English navigator, 
who was driven on one of them, which he called New Pro- 
vidence, in 1667, King Charles the Second of England made 
a grant of the Bahamas to the Duke of Albemarle and five 
other proprietors. The little colony, planted at New Pro- 
vidence, became licentious, refused’ obedience to its gover- 
nors,and committed depredations on the Spanish settlements: 
The Spaniards, after frequent ineffectual attempts to exter- 
minate the obnoxious colony, at length, in 1708, ‘assisted. 
by the French, destroyed the plantation: and expelled the 
colonists, who retired to the woods, and thence to Carolina. 
This, as well as the rest of the Bahamas, again became a. 
desart, but was soon after chosen as a station by a body of 
pirates, who found it a convenient retreat on account of the 
shoal water on the banks, and the numerous quays inaces- 
sible to large vessels, and of dangerous approach to any. 
The most infamously daring of this crew was John Teach, 
nicknamed Blackbeard, whose successful: audacity was so: 
alarming, that in 1718 the British government sent a re- 


_spectable force to quell the depredators and reduce the 


colony to order. Since that event the colony of New 
Providence has remained under British government with 
little interruption, and has encreased in wealth and numbers, 
but the rest of the islands continued almost desert till the 
conclusion of the American war in 1783, when many loyal 
Americans emigrated to them from South Carolina and 
Georgia, and formed plantations in them. 


THE BAHAMAS, 


So little stiecessful have these new colonists been in their 
agricultural projects; that many, after years of trial and the. 
ruin of their properties, have deserted the ungrateful soil to. 
try their fortunes elsewhere, insomuch that, without some 
unexpected turn in their favour, these islands seem to 
threaten to become again desert. .“‘ Although nature in all 
these islands spontaneously brings forth. many vegetables, 
both curious and beautiful, she has hitherto.refused, to resign, 
herself to continued cultivation. The exoties, which. are 
introduced, seem feebly and unsuccessfully. to strugele with 


cold winds, the droughts, and unfriendly seasons ;.whilea. — 


crop of hereditary and worthless weeds takes possession of 
the soil prepared for cultivation, and extracts.all its.nourish- 
ment to administer fertility, as they. decay, to the native and 
unprofitable forest trees. succeeding them.” The planters 
have not found any of the indigenous, vegetables fit objects 
of culture. Among these is-the wild lemon, the wild coffee, 
the wild tobaeco, the wild pimento, the wild cinnamon, the, 
eascarilla, the candlewood, which is so bituminous.as to.an- 
swer in some’ respects the. purpose of candles; the butter- 
bough, the greasy leaf of which is nutritious for cattle ;. the 
cork wood, which is so light as to. be a substitute for cork ; 
and the: braziletto, which, affords a. beautiful scarlet dye. 
The: timber, particularly. the mahogany, is large enough for. 
being formed into. the ribs and. beams of small ships. but.not. 
into boards and sheathing. . Cotton,, the staple object of 
culture in the Bahamas, was a product,of. the soil before 
their discovery by Europeans, but, the sorts which are cul- 
tivated are exotic. Beside that the soil becomes in a few 


years effete for the production of, this vegetable the crop is- 


285 
CHAPTER 
Vil. 





286 


CHAPTER 
Vii. 


\ THE BAHAMAS. 


often damaged or destroyed by insects called the red bug 


——— and the chenille. The aunts are also destructive to the 


plantations. 


: "The chief articles of commerce furnished by these islands 
are ‘cotton, salt, turtle, different kinds of fruit, mahogany 
timber, woods and barks for colouring. ‘The salt is pro- 
duced in vast quantities by the action of the sun-beams on 
the water of the ecean, admitted into shallow ponds in the 
land. ‘* The calcareous rock, of which the land is composed, 
lies generally in horizontal layers. From the violent action 
of the sea, which has evidently, and perhaps recently, beaten 
over them, the surface every where appears worn, fretted, 
and broken into holes, or often deep excavations. Hence 
the ocean’s water finds a passage, and has formed in many 
parts of the interior extensive salines or ponds. Early in 
the ‘year, when the powers of the ‘sun begins to encrease, ac- 
companied with dry weather, the salt every where in these 
natural ponds begins ‘to crystallize and subside in solid 
cakes. It remains then only to break the crystals, and rake 
the salt onshore : and by this easy mode a single labourer 
may rake from forty'to sixty bushels of salt ina day. The 
process however is facilitated by making small pans, which, 


_ as'the-salt is taken’out, may be replenished with ‘brine from 


the pond.”* Among other amphibious animals the turtle 
or tortoise, so highly prized for its‘excellent flesh, resorts in 
gréat number to the quays least frequented by mankind, 
where ‘it is occasionally taken by men to whom it isan ob- 


~—* Mac Kinnen, chap. 6. 


THE BAHAMAS. 


287 


ject of commercial speculation. The alligator, whose flesh cmaprzer 


resembles that of the sturgeon, is eaten by the inhabitants. 
Among the few indigenous animals not aquatic is the guana. 
The offsprings of imported quadrupeds are not numerous, 
except that of the domestic cat, which has multiplied consi- 
derably. Among the birds is the green parrot, the bald 
pigeon, and the beautiful crane called the flamingo. The 
last associates in great flocks far from the habitations of 
men. 


_ The total number of inhabitants in these islands is small, 
and seems also in a state of decrease. Some are absolutely 
desert, as the great Bahama, which has given its name to the 
whole group. Others contain only afew people. Thus on 
the cluster of isles called Caicos only twelve heads of families 
and between two and three hundred slaves were enumerated : 
on crooked island forty plantations and a theusand negroes : 
on San Salvador forty heads of families and four hundred 
and fifty-eight slaves: and on New Providence, far the most 
populous, somewhat above five thousand persons of all sorts. 
The last named island approachesin form an equilateral pa- 
rallelogram, with a diagonal of twenty-seven miles, and 
acute angles projecting to the east and west. Its land is 
uncultivated, except the environs of its capital, the town of 
Nassau, the seat of government of the Bahamas, within 


which almost all its inhabitants dwell. 1t owes its popula- ~ 


tion to the profits of a sea-faring life, and the excellence of 
its harbour, sheltered by a long quay, or insulated slip of 
land. ~The governor, with an income of near three thousand 
pounds a year, acts in conjunction with the two houses of 


VII, 


THE BAHAMAS, 


provincial * legislature, the upper and lower, chosen from 


~ among the people of the several islands. 


. With the exception of New Providence, the larger islands 
of this group are narrow’in proportion to their length. 


This is most strikingly the case with Long Island, which 


extends near a hundred miles in length, but ‘in medial 
breadth ‘not more than three. Toward the end of the 
eighteenth century eight hundred slaves were employed 
here in agriculture, but many plantations have since been 
deserted. Crooked Island is remarkable for its irregular 
shape, and vast excavations formed in some of its rocks by 
the action of the waves. Of the clusters of small islands 
one is termed the Turks, from a dwarfish kind of. cactus 
resembling a Turkish turban. Of these, abounding in salt, 
the greatest, called the Grand Turk, is about twelve: miles 
long and two bread. Another cluster is that of the Caicos; 
consisting of some larger and many smaller isles, parted by 
narrow channels, and lying in the form of a crescent, which 
opens to the south. The soil in the middle isles*of this 
cluster is accounted the best in the Bahamas. Lucaya and 
Bahama, each of which has given its name to the whole 
¢roup, seem to be held in little estimation. 


THE BERMUDAS, 


A solitary cluster, seated in the Atlantic, above two hun- 
dred leagues from the coast of Virginia, the. nearest land, 
are accounted about four hundred in number, but most of 
them are barren islets. They form a figure approaching 
that of a crescent, about thirty-six miles long and six broad, 
environed by dangerous reefsof rocksand shoals, They were 
discovered in 1522 by John Bermudez, a Spanish navigator, 
who found them destitute of inhabitants. In 1593 they 
were visited by some Englishmen, and in 1609 Sir George 
Somers, an English captain, was wrecked on their coast, 
from whom they were denominated the isles of Somers, or 
the Summer Islands. | 'T'wo years after this they received an 
English colony, which so increased that in the latter part 
of the seventeenth century it consisted of about ten thousand 
persons, but has since ‘decreased to half that number. The 
land is generally high and rugged, interspersed. with fertile 
spots of soil, and destitute of water, except what is preserved 
from rain in cisterns or procured by sinking wells. The 
temperature Is so mild, that the trees are ventant through- 
out the year, the spring is perpetual, and the air salubrious ; 
‘but storms and thunder are frequent, and hurricanes are too 
often felt. The chief indigenous trees are cedar, and ‘pal- 
metto. The chief object of culture is maize. The few 
quadrupeds are of ‘imported breeds. The indigenous ani- 
anals. are chiefly | birds of various kinds. 3 No venomous 
i 

‘00 


289 


290 


CHAPTER 
VIL. 





SABLE ,JSLAND: 


reptiles are found here. The principal island, ealled Saint 
George, sixteen miles Jong and two broad, contains the 
only town in the cluster, the town. of Sdint George, the seat. 
of government, consisting of about five hundred houses. 
This island. is divided. into nine districts, to: which the inha- 


_ bitants of the ‘rest severally belong. The chief objects of 


manufacturing industry are sailcloth, and’ the building of 
Gott vessels of cedar, which are — for swift eatin. 








SABLE ISLAND, 


Or the Isle of Sand, situated alone in the Atlantic, twenty- 


three leagues distant from: the nearest land, Cape Canso iu: 


Nova Scotia, extends in the form of a bow, in length eight 
leagues, in breadth not above half a league. It is destitute 
of inhabitants, and totally unfit to: receive a colony. It is 
seated on a vast sand-bank or shoal, the water on which 
gradually deepens in receding from the coast, to fifty fa- 
thoms. ‘Two bars extend far. from the two ends of the isle, 
on which and on the shores the surf continually beats with 
vast noise and violence, The coast is quite inhospitable, 
affording no harbour. The approach to it is dangerous 
even to boats. Landing is practicable on the northern 


‘SABLE ISLAND. 


shore only, and in calm weather. The whole isle consists 
of fine white sand, mixed with white transparent stones. 
Its face presents a strange appearance, uneven with sand- 
hills, knobs, and cliffs, confusedly jumbled. The sandhills 
are of a shape approaching a conical figure, of a milk-white 
hue, and sometimes near a hundred and fifty feet high. 
Along the middle of the island, through half its length, 
extends a narrow pond, supplied with water from the ocean 
at each tide ef flood, through a narrow gut-on the northern’ 
side, twelve feet deep at the time of low water, abounding 
in seals and other aquatic animals. Many ponds of fresh 


water are contained in other hollows, on the sides of which 


grow juniper, blueberries, and cranberries, No trees are 
here produced, but much of what is called beach-grass, wild 
peas, and other vegetables, the food of horses, cows, and 
hogs, which here are wild in a state of nature. 


202 - 


291 


CHAPTER 
Vill. 


. 


CapeeBreton. 


THE ‘ISLANDS OF SAINT. 
| LAWRENCE, | ; 


“Siu in the sea of Saint Salted iat ee a. 
gulf utider the same appellation, consist of the isles of Cape- 
Breton, Saint John or Prince Edward, Anticosti; and some: 
others ‘of inferior magnitude, all) under subjection ‘to the: 
British crown. The. first, termed: also Ile Royale: by the: 
French, is parted from Nova Scotia by: the strait:called: 
Fronsac | Passage or the.gut of :Canso, about half a league: 
wide... This island, colonized early in ‘the ‘eighteenth cen- 
tury by the French,‘was conquered by the English in the: 
year 1758, under whose ‘government, it still remains. . It 
extends about a hundred miles.in length and sixty in breadth, 
but is so deeply indented as to be divided into two peninsu- 
las, connected by an: isthmus about half a mile broad. Its 


_ coast, environed by pointed rocks, some of which are visible 


above water, is high and-almost inaccessible on:the northern. 
side, but affords many receptacles for shipping on. the eas- 
tern, all of which have a turning toward the south. One of: 
these, the harbour of Louisburgh, with an entrance of four 
hundred yards.in width, a winding length of four leagues,. 
and a depth of at least seven fathoms every where, is one of 
the finest in the northern regions of America. The land is 
mountainous in the interior, and so abounds in lakes, that. 
the lower grounds appear to be half covered with water. 
From these, which remain long, frozen, and from. the thick. 


THE SAINT LAWRENCE ISLES. 


forests which intercept the sun’s rays, the air is cold and 
foggy, though not supposed unwholesome. From such a 
state of the atmosphere, and the -poverty of the thin soil, 
which yields little else than moss, the land is little fit for either 
agriculture or the breeding of cattle. The inhabitants 
therefore, who are few in number, depend for subsistence on 
the fisheries in their neighbourhood. . Mines of coal abound; 
also of plaister of Paris, and. some say of iron. The go- 
vernor, at-once-a- civil and military officer, resides at the 
little town of Sidney, accounted the capital. A Sed 


The isle of Saint John, lately denominated Prince Edward’s 
istand, is severed from the continent by a, channel called 
the Red sea, from three to six leagues wide, and from nine 


to twenty-five fathoms deep, but of dangerous navigation on 


account of rocks which border its northern bank. The island, 
above a hundred and ten miles long, but scarcely ten broad, 
where widest, and deeply indented by many inlets, bends 
into a figure approaching that of a crescent, and terminates 


in two points, that of North cape in the northwest, and that 
of East point on the eastern side.: The numerous inlets form. 


many harbours and roads for. anchorage, several: of. which 
are commodious. The winter is long, and: intensely: cold; 
asin all the neighbouring countries, but the air is healthy, 
although subject to fogs. The land is of a level nature, well 
watered, and fertile, furnishimg copious supplies of excellent 
timber, and good pasturage, and productive, where cleared, 
of all the kinds of grain of northern Europe.. The crops 


however are oft injured by fogs which cause mildew, and by _ 


destructive insects, which swarm in the heat of summer: 


a 


Saint John. 


THE SAINT “LAWRENCE ISLEs, . 


CHAPTER, "This island; eolonized. by. the French in 1719, was'seized in 





Anticosti. 


1758 by the English,. by. whom it is, still retained. It has 
been granted by the British government to several proprie- 


tors in districts of twenty thousand acres each, called town- 


ships, and also in smaller called half townships, An en- 


creasing .colony has. thus been established, the number of 


whose people was computed some years ago at. seven thou- 


sand. The seat of. its government, subordinate. to that of 


‘Nova Scotia, is Charlestown or. Charlottestown, seated near 
the middle of the southern coast. 7 oii 


Anticosti, situated at. the mouth of the vast river Saint 
Lawrence, extends in length above one hundred and twenty 
miles, and in, breadth, where it is widest, thirty. The coast 
is destitute of harbours, although the sea is very deep close 
to the shore ; and flat rocks, which stretch far inte the wa- 
ter from each extremity, render to shipping the approach 


hazardous. From the shores, which are flat, the land rises 


gently toward the-central parts, but not so, high as to form 
hills. Itis very scantily watered, containing only some 


pools and rivulets, the channels of which are dry in summer. 


The sandy soil mixed with rocks, is barren, yielding only 
stunted wood and plauts. The whole is of little value. It 
is destitute of inhabitants, except that it is occasionally 
visited by savages engaged: in hunting or the fishery. The 
property of the land, which belongs to some families in 
Quebec, under British government, might. be purchased for 
a. small sum.. 


THE SAINT EAWRENCE ISLES, 


295 


The smaller isles consist of those of Saint Paul, the Mag- cHAPTER 


dalenes, the Bird isles, Saint Peter, and Miquelon. The 


VIL. 


first is quite desert, parted from the northern extremity of S™4* isle» 


Cape-Breton by a safely navigable channel, four leagues. 


wide. Of the Magdalene islands, eight in number, situated 
twelve leagues to the north of Cape-Breton, the largest, 
containing a deep harbour; consists of a rock, covered with: 
a thin stratum of earth, inhabited by a few fishermen: The 
Bird isles are two rocks, rising more than a hundred feet 
above the sea, and terminating above in flat surfaces, 
covered with the dung of immense flocks of birds, which fre- 


quent them chiefly in the breeding season. The isles of — 
Saint Peter and Miquelon lie near the southern coast of 


Newfoundland. ‘They are barren and of no value except as- 
convenient stations for the fishery. The former, two leagues. 
in length, is furnished with a good harbour for small vessels,. 
of which it can contain thirty. The latter is somewhat 
larger, and: is less barren, as it produces more wood. Mi- 
quelon however is conceived to consist of two isles, the 
greater and the less. The latter, situated southward of the 


former, is more woody, but otherwise not valuable.. ‘ 


CHAPTER 
VIII. 





‘NEWFOUNDLAND, 


“Formine on one side the boundary of. the sea of Saint 
Lawrence, is parted from Labrador by the strait of Belleisle, 
which ‘affords every where good anchorage in a depth of 
thirty or forty fathoms, but is of dangerous navigation in the 
night on account of the force and uncertainty of its currents. 
By a multitude of inlets, some of which penetrate very deeply _ 


into the land, the coasts of this great island are broken in so 


extraordinary a manner as to form a vast number and variety 
of capes and peninsulas. Of the two greatest and most 
remarkable of the latter one extends far northeastward from 
the western side, constituting the northwestern portion of 
this country, which nearly approaches a triangle in figure. 
The other, advancing from a very narrow isthmus toward 
the southeast, isitself so pierced by two opposite bays, that 


_its eastern part forms also a peninsula. Of the multitude of 
inlets, by which the coast of Newfoundland is every where 


indented, so many are commodious for the reception of ships, 
that no country is known, in proportion to its size, to furnish 
so great a number of safe and convenient harbours. To 
enumerate all such would be to frame a large catalogue. 
To particularize two or three may suffice. In the western 
side of the great northwestern peninsula lies a bay termed 
by the French Ingornachoix, which from a narrow, but per- 
fectly safe, entrance divides into two branches, of which the 
northern, called port Saunders, is preferable on account of 


NEWFOUNDLAND. 


its deeper water, but the whole forms one of the noblest 
harbours in the world. Far inferior in size, though near 
six milesin length, is Capelin bay, on the eastern side of 
the great southeastern peninsula, but not inferior to any in 
safety and convenience. Near this lies the smaller harbour 
of Ferryland, the inner part of which, called the Pool, is as 
completely sheltered from all winds as a dock. 
Bancroft Library 

The coasts of this island are generally rugged, and ser- 

rated with rocky promontories. One of the most rémark- 


able is Cape Broyle, near Capelin bay, which presents to . 


distant mariners the appearance of an enormous saddle. 
The interior parts exhibit a wild and dreary scene of bleak 
mountains and hills, marshy plains, quagmires, lakes, and 
dark forests. Many of the mountains approach the shores 
as those which border the bay of Saint George in the south- 
western quarter, and the chain which is denominated Blow- 
me-down hills, in a more northern part of the western coast. 
The lakes and marshes, which occupy so great a portion of 
the surface, furnish waters to many rivers, of which none 
seem to be navigable by ships through any considerable 
length of course. ‘They have however been little explored. 
The greatest is the Humber, which, issuing from a conge- 
ries of waters in the northwestern peninsula, flows toward 
the southwest, nearly parallel to the western coast, through 
a course of sixty leagues, to the bay of islands in that quarter. 
The river Main, the drain of extensive lakes and marshes, 
which falls into the bay of Saint George on the same coast, 
is broad and of considerable depth, but of extremely difficult 
entrance to boats on account of a bar of sand across its mouth, 


Pp 


297 


CHAPTER 
VItL. 


298 


NEWFOUNDLAND. 


CHAPTER on which the waves break with great violence. Among the | 


VIilk. 





cataracts is one called the Spout, on the eastern coast of the — 
great southeastern peninsula, formed by a body of water: 
impelled through a fissure of a rock, and falling from such a 
height as‘to exhibit the appearance of volcanic smoke, ° Visi- 
ble far at sea, and thus furnishing a landmark. 


The winter in Newfoundland is intensely cold, and of so 
long duration ‘that the summer is.too short for the bringing 


of corn, and other objects of agriculture, to maturity. The — 


atmosphere is tempestuous, and in summer extremely foggy. 
Yet the air is wholesome in an uncommonly high degree. © 
The fogs often render navigation dangerous, yet a circum- 
stance has been observed concerning them which appears 
to be peculiar. “ It often occurs that the whole of the ocean 
around Newfoundland is enveloped in so dense a fog, that — 
it is apparently impossible for a ship to proceed -on her © 
course, without incurring the most imminent danger of ship- _ 
wreck: but, at the same time, there is generally a small 
space, within a mile or two of the shore itself, entirely clear 
of the vapour, and, as it were, forming a zone of light around — 
the coast: so that a person, acquainted with this singular © 
phenomenon, will, in some cases, be enabled to attain his 
port ; while a stranger, on the other hand, is afraid to ap- 


_ proach the island.”* From the bleakness of the atmosphere, - 


and the poverty of the thin soil, the efforts of agriculture 
would be vain for the sustenance of mankind. — Moss, trees; 
and shrubs are the chief spontaneous products. The timber “ 


* Chappell’s Voyage to Newfoundland, p. 63. . 


NEWFOUNDLAND. 


seems in. general neither large, nor of. much value except 
for fuel. The trees.by which the country is in general 
overspread, are mostly pine, spruce, fir, larch, and birch. 
From an infusion of the tender branches of. the spruce, 
mingled with molasses,.a. wholesome beverage is made by 
the inhabitants. Among the shrubs is the juniper, and other 
kinds which yield berries of different species. Berries which 
_ are delicious in tarts .or puddings may be found in marshy 
grounds in prodigious quantities. 


_ Where the land is so little productive, quadrupeds, except 
the aquatic sorts, cannot be: numerous... Hares,. deer, squir- 
rels, porcupines, and bears are fourid in the woods. ‘The 
_ reindeer and others of the venison are. scarce. The porcu- 
_ pines are in plenty, and. their flesh is much esteemed. 
Wolves, foxes, lynxes, and martins are natives of the island. 
Some of the foxes in the northern parts are said to be black. 
Seals abound along the coast; and beavers and otters inhabit 
the borders of the lakes and rivers. _Tame quadrupeds are 
_ very few except dogs, the genuine species of which, deno- 
minated from. this island, so highly esteemed for docility, 
patience of cold, and endurance in the water,. has become 
very scarce. Dogsare here the beasts of draught, employed 
in the drawing of loads, particularly: of wood for fuel: 
Aquatic birds are in vast number around the coast and.in 
the lakes and marshes of the interior. Those which frequent 
the fresh water, are chiefly ducksand geese. . Partridges are 
in great plenty... A species, called the spruce-partridge 
from its feeding on the bark of the spruce, resembles the 
2P2 


299 


CHAPTER 
Vill. 


S eteneeenneenetiiaemamiael 
a“ 


300 


NEWFOUNDLAND. 


CHAPTER. common partridge of England in ‘colour, shape, and size; 
——————— but it perches on trees, and isso tame as to suffer itself 


often to be knocked down with poles. The flesh of this - 
bird is bitter when roasted, but has a delicate taste: when. 
dressed as a fricassee. Among the insects is the musquito, 
which. proves a plague in: the heat of summer. The lakes 
and rivers. abound in fish, such as treut and salmon, to an 
extraordinary degree, and the neighbouring sea is most co- 
piously stored, especially with cod. Of the fossils of this. 
island, as no search has been made for them, we can only 

say that porphyry of several colours has been found, and 
that beds of coal are supposed to be accutane 


. This great island is valuable only for the Jalhantoda of 
codfish around its coasts, and on the Great Bank, or vast 
submarine tableland, in its vicinity, already noted in the 
General. View prefixed to this work. These fish are taken: 
by hook and line. The bait used-in this business is either 
the herring or the capelin. The latter seems to be peculiar 
to the coasts of this country and of Labrador. It is a small 
and delicate fish much resembling the smelt. . For the de: 
positing of its spawn on the sandy beaches it visits these 
coasts: about August and September in such. shoals that 
each often. darkens the sea through the space of a mile or 
more. ‘They rush with such violence to the shores, that 
many of them expire on. the dry sand, unable to-regain their 
native element. The fishery of cod, which commonly 
commences early in May, and terminates. at the close of 


September, is prosecuted chiefly on the great bank, but also 


NEWFOUNDLAND. 


30! 


on all the coasts of the island, except the northwestern, to CHAPTER 
Vill 


which this animal is said never to resort. These creatures 
bite with such voracity, and are taken with such quickness, 
that two lines, with two hooks at each, held by the same 
man, are perpetually in motion, alternately: pulled above 
the surface of the water, the one constantly descending while 
the other ascends. [In the process of curing, each fish passes 
through the hands of three men, to each of whom is assigned 


his particular office. ‘“ With such amazing celerity is the 


operation of heading, splitting, and salting performed, that 


it is not an unusual thing to see ten cod-fish decapitated, 
their entrails thrown into the sea, and their backbones torn: 


out in the short space of one minute and a half.”* After the 


salting the fish are dried in the sunbeams on shore, to render 
’ them fit for exportation. Fifty thousand tuns of shipping 


are supposed to be employed every year in this fishery, 


bearing twenty thousand men; and six hundred thousand 
quintals, or hundred weights of cod, are computed to be 


annually exported from the island. This merchandize, 
with oil of seals and fish, constitutes almost the whole of 
the exports of this country, which is supplied with pro- 
visions and manufactured goods from: abroad. 


-Newfoundland was discovered in 1497, or the following 


year, by an English squadron under the command of John 
Cabot, or Sebastian, his son. In some time after this, some 
English fishermen began to: frequent the eastern coasts. 
To give a government to such, for the prevention. of disputes- 


* Chappell, p.. 129. 





302 


_ NEWFOUNDLAND. : 


CHAPTER among them, Sir Humphrey Gilbert, in 1583, took posses: 





sion of these parts under a commission from Queen Eliza- 
beth, Encouraged by the success of the English, the 


_ French formed settlements on the northern and southern 


coasts, particularly at the great bay of Placentia. After 
various disputes for the dominion of the island, the whole 
was surrendered by France to England by the treaty of 
Utrecht in 1713, with a reservation to the French of a right 
to fish on the great bank, and of the possession for that 
purpose of the unfortified isles of Saint Peter and Miquelon. 
Since that time this country has constantly remained under 
the dominion of the British crown, but the French and 
Anglo-Americans are permitted to fish-on the banks in its 
vicinity. The government is vested in a vice-admiral of the 


‘British navy, in whose absence, which has place in winter, 


when the harbours are frozen, his authority devolves to a 


- military officer styled the lieutenant-governor. In case of 


the latter's death the power is exercised by the chief justice 
until the munich is filled. 


The area of this triangular island, of which the southern 
base extends about three hundred miles, and the altitude 


from south to north near two hundred and eighty, may con- 


tain, with allowance made for its inlets, full twenty-four mil- 
lions of acres. ‘The population is ill proportioned to such a 
space. The inhabitants consist of Europeans, and a very 
sinall number of indigenous people. © Subsisting solely on 
the profits of the fishery, the former dwell only on the 
coasts, almost all indeed on the eastern. Of these the 
greater part are not permanent inhabitants, but return at 


NEWFOUNDLAND. 


4 


303 


the end of the fishing season to Europe, where they remain CHAPTER 


during the long winter. Of the permanent settlers, “ the 
lower classes are generally composed of turbulent Irishmen, 


whose uuwearied industry during the fishing season in sum- ~ 
mer, is forcibly contrasted with théir unbounded licentious- 


ness in winter. Indeed all ranks of society appear to con- 
sider debauchery as the only antidote to the tedium vite, 
which prevails between the month of December and the 
recommencement of the fishery in the May following.’* 
Of the number of Europeans in either summer or winter E 
can find no estimate on which we ean rely. A colony of 
Miemacs, settled in Saint George’s bay, emigrants from 


Cape-Breton and the neighbouring parts, are indigenous . 


Americaus, though not aboriginals of Newfoundland. They 
They have so intermarried with Europeans that in 1813, the 
number of purely indigenous exceeded not fifty persons of all 


ages and both sexes. Indeed the whole of the inhabitants — 


arin this bay, amounted not to more than two hundred 
and nine. The truly indigenous, termed Red Indians from 


a red colour with which they tinge the hair and skin, are 


extremely few, inhabiting the interior, and the northeastern, 
northern, and northwestern parts. Barbarously treated by 
ignorant fishermen, these savages, who at first were found 


friendly and obliging, have conceived so implacable an - 


enmity to Europeans as completely to avoid all kinds of 
intercourse with them. They “ study the art of conceal- 
inent so effectually, that, although often heard, they are 
seldom seen :”f and, when seen, they run away, and ex- 
_ pertly disguise their tracks from the discovery of pursuers; 


* Chappell, p. 52. _ +Idem, p. 180, 








NEWFOUNDLAND, 


The town of Saint John, the capital, and indeed the only 
collection of houses in the island which can merit the title 
of a town, is seated on the eastern coast. of the great south- 
eastern peninsula, on an excellent harbour, with a long and 
narrow, but safe and not difficult entrance, between rocky 
precipices of enormous height on the northern side, and a 
rugged mountain on the southern. The town, which may 
perhaps be in a state of improvement, has hitherto con- 
sisted of one street, narrow, mean-looking, and dirty, com- 
posed chiefly of wooden houses, and extending all along one 
side of the harbour.. The number of its inhabitants fue 
ates and is uncertain. They are numerous in summer, but 
few in winter. Placentia, situated on a bay of that name, 
is small, but next to Saint John’s in size and population. ee 
Many small islands lie around the coast ef Newfoundland, of 
which none appear to have permanent inhabitants, nor to 
have been well described, except those which have been 
already mentioned, and probably very few can deserve a 


particular description. They are doubtless in general rocky, 
bleak, and barren. 


* Chappell ; Haye’s Brief Relation of the Newfoundland ; Whitbourne’s 
Discourse, &c. of Newfoundland, 


BELLEISLE, 


An island, which gives name to a strait separating La- 
brador from Newfoundland, situated northeastward of the 
northwestern peninsula of the latter country, seems hardly so 
‘large as Miquelon, and is high, rugged, and barren, unin- 
habited and apparently not habitable. Beneath the preci- 
pitous rocks which line its coast, and against which the bil- 
lows foam with tremendous fury, monstrous icebergs are 
often grounded, and form a strong contrast with black cliffs 
behind. 


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